Anywhere I Would Have Followed You
by Dracoisalooker76
Summary: A drunken kiss at a Christmas party starts five months worth of firsts for college junior Katniss Everdeen and begins a journey she's not entirely sure she wants to go on. Banner by Ro Nordmann.
1. Chapter 1

**01: I'm still learning to love, just starting to crawl**

There's a sign on the door made out of pieces of red and green construction paper taped together with holiday-themed duct tape that reads: _I'm dreaming of a white Christmas…but if white runs out I'll drink the red!_ Above it are the RA-designed nameplates that each dorm on campus gets, six of them with the name and their hometown's seal. Finnick…Peeta…Thresh…Cato…Marvel…and the door opens before I can read the last one.

The boy standing in the doorway takes up the entire thing. I can't even see inside to the party, although I can hear it. The door guard crosses his arms and keeps his face in a straight-line as he eyes us. "Who do you know here?" he asks.

Annie steps forward. "I'm on the swim team with Finnick."

He nods, a small flash of recognition on his face and then looks at the rest of us – probably to make sure that Annie didn't bring an army of people with her. He nods. "I'm Thresh. I'm the sober contact tonight so if you run into any problems, let me know."

Johanna pats his arm. His muscles are so large I wouldn't be able to fit both my hands around them. "Alright, hot stuff." She turns to us. "Come on, girls! Let's go."

There's barely enough room to stand without bumping into a sweaty body – and then when you try to untouch that sweaty body you catapult yourself into the sweaty body of the person to the other side. It's not like I'm not sweating either just by walking in. It's December and the second to last weekend before finals so it's a nippy two degrees above freezing during the day. It's ten now, so I can only imagine how much colder it is outside. There must be a seventy-degree difference between the inside of the Townhouse and the outside weather. I tug at the sleeves of my coat.

"Give me your coat," Johanna shouts, hers already off and showcasing her outfit. It's a black crop top and a skintight red skirt she covered in bows from CVS.

I take off my jacket and hand it to her, watching as she and Madge hide our coats under the couch. Once they're back up from the ground, I look around the crowded room.

Why am I here?

It's not that I don't know why I'm here. It all started last Saturday, when Annie came back from her swim meet. The three of us were watching _Elf_ to avoid starting our homework when Annie came barreling in the door.

"I got us invited to Finnick's annual Christmas bash!" she squealed.

Johanna and Madge got all excited and I let them bask in the news. I figured that I would be able to get away with not going by saying I had to stay in and finish a paper. I never go to parties with them; they're not really my thing. I'd much rather have the time alone, pop in a movie, surf the web, just relax, and wait for the three of them to come stumbling in later that night, already on the phone with the local Chinese place to put in their usual order.

"Kat, will you come, please? It's the last weekend of the semester. You won't have homework. Please?" Annie begged. That got Johanna and Madge all bent on the idea and they guilt-tripped me into it, saying they always missed me and we haven't gone out all four of us all semester.

And that's how I got here, in this sweaty hotbox, looking for the nearest exit in the event that the whole place goes up in flames.

Everyone and their brother wants to live in the Townhouses when they're seniors. It's the most popular senior housing. The seventy-six units are separated into four units per row, each with three bedrooms to accommodate six people. They are smack dab in the center of all the housing and the nucleus of partying on campus. I've never really seen the appeal to be honest. The Townies, as they're called, are known to be the most disgusting housing on campus, and given what I'm seeing now I'm not the least bit surprised, but apparently it's tradition to have one. Johanna is already trying to find two more girls to add to our four so we can enter into the lottery for one next year.

I want to get out of here.

Johanna hands me a solo cup. "Drink this, you'll be less miserable." I give her a look. "Look, you're not going to have fun here if you're sober and neither am I because I'm going to be watching you scowl. Get drunk for once in your life, brainless. It's not going to hurt you."

My scowl just sets even further on my face and, when I open my mouth to retaliate, she rolls her eyes. "Trust me," she says, grabbing the cup and taking a sip herself. "You don't even need to get drunk, just tipsy enough so you don't ruin Annie's night."

Johanna points to Annie a few groups of people away in the kitchen. She's standing with Finnick, her hands around her own solo cup, her eyes staring up at him as if he's Zeus or Hercules or something. Annie's had the biggest crush on Finnick since our freshman year and he hasn't even noticed her. But this is her first time getting invited to one of his non-swim parties. I doubt anything will come of it, but we'll let Annie dream.

Turning back to my own cup, I take a gulp and almost spit it back out. "What is that?" I moan.

"Hawaiian Punch, orange juice, mostly vodka." She tugs my hand. "Finish that and we'll go get peppermint schnapps poured in our mouths."

I finish the cup and follow Johanna to the area of the Townie where they're pouring the alcohol in people's mouths. Madge is already there, her mouth open as a dark haired girl pours the chocolate sauce and then peppermint schnapps in her mouth. She swallows and then skips to us. She's already feeling the alcohol a little bit. She, Annie, and Johanna pregamed with the little bit of cheap vodka we had left. I abstained, which is why Johanna's dead set on getting me to drink here.

After the peppermint schnapps and a few sips from Madge's solo cup, I feel light as air. It's a nice feeling. I reach for Madge's solo cup again and Johanna grabs my wrist.

"Hold up. You're done."

"Why?" I ask. "I want more."

Johanna and Madge both laugh, Madge reaching forward to wrap her arms around my shoulders. I don't normally like hugs all that much, but I hug Madge right back. When we let go, Madge's cup is gone and Johanna has finished the last of it off, setting it on the side table beside her.

"I want to play beer pong," Johanna announces, pointing toward the other end of the Townie to where they have a table set up. "Who wants to be my partner?"

I don't like beer. I remember that in my haze. Madge and Johanna head over to the table and I know I should probably follow them, but I don't like beer. And I'm feeling a little dizzy. I walk toward the side of the Townie, pushing through sweaty people and lean against the wall, looking around for my friends. I don't know where they went.

"Hi!"

I look away from a girl who looks like Annie but isn't Annie to the boy beside me. He's very pretty. He has blond curly hair that falls over his forehead in waves and bright blue eyes. The whites of his eyes are red, making them look even bluer with the contrast. The ugliest Christmas sweater I've ever seen currently covers his broad shoulders.

"Aren't you hot?" I ask.

"I don't know, am I?" he jokes. I'm about to nod my head yes when he shakes his. "Just kidding. I'm Peeta!"

He's yelling so I can hear him over the music so I yell too. "Katniss!"

"Hello, Katniss," he says. He smiles. It lights up his whole face. Or maybe that's the Christmas lights on the Christmas tree they have in one corner of the Townie. "So what brings you here?"

I try to find Annie, but I can't find her. "My friend swims."

"Ah," he says, nodding his head. "You know Finn. Great guy."

I don't really know Finnick, just from what Annie has said in the past, and I open my mouth to tell that to Peeta, but the Christmas tree lights flicker in a new pattern and I look over there instead. I push away from the wall and wobble a little in the stupid heels Johanna forced me into.

"Whoa." Peeta reaches out and grabs my hand to steady me. He has really big hands. "How you doing?"

I give him a thumbs up and kick Madge's heels off my feet. "I can't walk in these!"

"I wouldn't be able to either," he says. "But you're not gonna wanna walk around here barefoot. My feet are too big for you, but I could give you a pair of slippers to wear anyway."

Peeta leaves me. All my friends keep leaving me. Am I really not that fun? I should drink more. Johanna told me once that it makes people more fun. I don't know where to find a solo cup so instead I join the line for more peppermint schnapps. I wonder how many bottles they bought. It's like a never-ending cycle.

"Katniss!"

I turn and see Peeta walking back to me with a pair of slippers in his hands. He drops them to the floor and I put my bare feet into them. It feels much better than carpet. I thank him and he takes my hand, pulling me away from the line. I let him. He must live here. I ask him that.

"Yeah, I'm Finnick's roommate," he says, pulling me to the couch and sitting down. I sit down next to him. "I like your outfit."

I look down. Johanna wanted to put me in a black bandeau and a red bodycon skirt. I refused. Annie dressed me in her green skirt and a red tank top and put a belt around my waist with a bow on the clasp so I would look like a present. I'm glad I let Annie dress me now because Peeta likes it.

We're still holding hands. I've never held hands with a boy before. I think I like it.

"Thanks," I say.

He grins. "How do you like the party?"

Now that I'm in this little pocket of the world with Peeta it's not so bad. But when I turn back to all the people dancing and yelling and the music playing so loudly I shake my head. I can't find my friends. What if they left me here? But Johanna wouldn't leave me. Neither would Madge or Annie. They're around here somewhere. Peeta will hang out with me until they come back.

I put my hands over my ears. "It's really loud."

"Do you want to go outside for a minute?" I nod my head. Peeta stands up and guides me toward the back door. I've never been in the backyard of a Townie. They have a patio and a picnic table with a grill. I knew about the grill. Johanna wants to live here so we can grill and tailgate before football games in the fall next year. When Peeta shuts the door behind us, I can still hear the music through the thin walls of the Townie. Peeta sits down on the table and I climb up next to him.

"Is it this loud all the time?" I ask.

He shrugs. "Just the weekends." He smirks. "Not a partier?"

I shake my head. "I got dragged here."

A gust of wind blows through and I shiver. It's kind of chilly outside. Peeta swears under his breath. "I should have brought a coat for you."

I can't remember where I put my coat.

"Do you want to go back in?" I look back at the house and swear I see the walls shaking. I shake my head. Peeta reaches for me. "Let me keep you warm then."

Peeta pulls me toward him and wraps his arms around me. He's so warm! I press my face into his neck to hide from the wind.

I'm in his lap. How I got there I'm not exactly sure. I'm curled up tightly against his chest, his arm around my legs to keep them warm and his other around my back to keep me in place. I look up to see if his eyes are just as pretty a blue up close but it's dark outside and I can't see. He looks at me too.

Peeta is looking at my lips.

"You're really pretty, Katniss," he says, leaning down so his nose can brush against mine. I feel even warmer. "Can I kiss you?"

I've never kissed anyone. I nod.

I don't know what I'm doing so I let Peeta come to me. He slowly comes toward me and presses his lips to mine. He tastes like beer and I don't like beer but I like the feeling. His lips are soft and I try to copy the way they move. Our noses bump each other and Peeta takes my head in his hands, tilting it slightly. We continue kissing until we need to breathe. We separate for a quick second, enough time for me to gulp a few breaths in, before Peeta dives back in.

This kiss is different. I think I'm getting used to what I'm supposed to do now and instead of letting my hands stay at my side, I lift them. But where do I put them? I settle for his shoulders. My nose presses into his cheek and he adjusts my head for me.

I'm in a daze when we finally take a break. My heart beats quickly, echoing in my ears, and even though I feel warm, my fingers are numbing up. As much as I don't want to go back inside, we probably should. Peeta looks like he's coming to the same conclusions as I am.

He takes my hand and leads me back into the Townie, but after being outside it's twice as loud as it was before. I press my face into Peeta's chest. I just want to go home.

I must say that out loud because I can feel Peeta nod. "Let's go find your friends."

There are not many places my friends can go, but with the amount of people still here crowding the bottom floor of the Townie, it takes forever to get from one side to the other. Finally we make it to the kitchen and I see Annie and Finnick talking to Madge and Johanna, who aren't facing me. Annie looks over them and she suddenly goes from not looking happy to looking very happy.

"Katniss!" she squeals. "There you are!"

Madge rushes forward and takes me in her arms and it's awkward because I'm still holding Peeta's hand and my arms stretches uncomfortably. Johanna snickers, but I'm not sure why.

"See, she was safe the whole time," I hear Finnick say.

"Don't disappear on us again, please," Madge says, pulling back and looking toward Johanna and Annie. "Ready to go, girls?"

Johanna walks away to grab our coats from under the couch and I feel Peeta squeeze my hand. I turn back to him and give him a hug. He hugs me back and even kisses the top of my head. When Johanna gets back she helps me put my coat on and I have to let go of Peeta's hand. We say goodbye to Finnick and Peeta and then leave to head to our own dorm.

Johanna throws her arm over my shoulder as we walk. "You better remember this tomorrow, brainless," she says.

…

When I wake up, I feel like I've been run over by a truck. I roll over and look at the clock on my alarm. It's already passed noon and I never sleep this long. I can hear voices in the common room and when I look over to Madge's bed it's empty. They all must be awake already. I sit up, blinking a few times, and notice a cup of water and a bottle of painkillers on my desk next to my bed. I gulp all the water down and toss back two of the pills before stumbling out of bed and into the common room.

"Well, look who decided to grace us with her presence this morning," Johanna says.

I shoot her the best scowl I can come up with and then collapse into the pink butterfly chair Madge has brought to all of the dorms we've lived in. Johanna, well, all three of them actually are staring at me like vultures. I bring my fingers to my nose bridge and squeeze.

"How do you feel?" Madge asks. "You passed out when we got back. Your sesame chicken is in the fridge."

Annie stares at Johanna pointedly. "Well, most of it."

I think back and remember brief moments of Johanna practically pulling me into the dorm, tossing me on the couch, and basically telling me I needed to eat something to soak up alcohol in my stomach. I remember crossing my arms over my chest, shaking my head, and pouting like a toddler. And then when Annie asked, less abrasive than Johanna, if I wanted the same thing she was getting, I agreed wholeheartedly. I must have passed out before it got here.

Johanna shrugs. "I'll pay her back," she says, turning from Annie to me. "Spill it, Katniss. I want to hear about Blondie."

_What? _"Blondie?"

"I know you remember. You weren't drunk enough to black out!" Johanna hisses. "What the hell happened last night with you and Finnick's roommate?"

The thing is: Johanna's right. I wasn't drunk enough to black out as much as I wish I had been. I was kind of wishing it was all just a dream. Did I really pretty much throw myself on a guy I didn't even really meet? I've judged Madge, Johanna, and even Annie for doing the same thing in past. Drunken hook ups are definitely not something I ever foresaw myself doing.

I put my face in my hands and groan.

"Oh, no!" Johanna shouts, jumping over the couch to reach me. She pulls my hands away from my face. "You can't disappear from us and not tell us what happened."

"Jo!" Annie exclaims.

Madge stands up from her chair and walks toward me, sitting down on the floor in front of me and patting my knee. She doesn't say anything and it's something I've grown to like. Madge and I have been roommates since freshman year's random assignment and, although we couldn't be any more different, we're at the point in our friendship where we don't need to talk. Madge understands the embarrassment I'm feeling and she's coming over to support me.

I let out a breath and turn to Johanna. "Peeta."

"What?"

"Blondie. He has a name. It's Peeta."

I tell them everything I remember. Some of it is clearer than others. Johanna barks with laughter when I tell them about our kiss outside and comments about how I really am brainless if I wanted to spend any time outside last night without a coat – _although you were probably plenty warm_. Annie lets out a breath when I tell them that was all we did – I'd like to think I wasn't drunk enough to follow him upstairs, but apparently the three of them were all ready to hop in Madge's car and go to CVS for the morning-after pill. And Madge doesn't even say anything when I realize I forgot her heels at the Townie. I, however, choke on my own spit when I see that Peeta's slippers are currently kicked on the floor of our common room.

"I can't believe I walked back in his slippers!" I moan. "Now I'm going to have to give them back."

"I can do it, Kat," Annie says. "I'll give them to Finnick at practice and have him bring Madge's heels."

Johanna rolls her eyes. "I don't see why you don't want to see him again, brainless. Blondie's gorgeous. Maybe we could finally get you laid."

I must be as red as I feel because Annie and Madge both punch her in either arm.

…

Annie does end up taking the slippers and putting them in her swim bag for Monday's practice and I curl up in bed the rest of the day. I'm going to have to work my butt off to get my work done tomorrow but I can't do any today. My head hurts too much and I wouldn't be able to focus.

On Monday I set my alarm for seven, pack my bag with all my work, and head to one of the dining halls to do my work. I set up my laptop, sprawl my notes around me, and set out to finish my lab report before my lab at three. I have to skip my history class but it's a huge lecture and I aced the midterm. Skipping fifty minutes of a semester long class probably won't hurt me as much as not finishing this lab.

I'm just finishing my conclusion when I decide to grab lunch. I stuff my laptop in my backpack just so it's not visible and walk into the food area. I'm trying to decide if I want a salad or a Panini, when I grind my teeth together and hide behind a stand of potato chips.

Peeta is standing in the deli line, laughing with another tall, broad, blond boy and a shorter dark haired boy. He's facing the entrance so he might have seen me come in and will definitely see me if I try to leave. Maybe he doesn't remember me. If I remember correctly, he was pretty drunk too.

I pull my elastic off the bottom of my braid and quickly pull it apart so it curtains my face. Then I grab a huge bag of something and pretend to read the ingredients. Girls do it all the time here. I probably look crazy, but it's better than being recognized by Peeta. I'd like to put that night behind me.

I steal a peek at the deli line. Peeta is ordering, his back to me. I spin around and head straight for the cashier, only dropping the bag on the counter when I'm sure my face can't be seen by Peeta if he turns around. I all but sprint out of the food area, stuff all my notes in my backpack, and use the far door of the dining hall to leave.

…

There are close to ten thousand people at this school and it has never felt as small as it does now. Since seeing Peeta at the dining hall, I've run into him three times. Once on my way out of the science building after my lab. Another time when I went for a run around campus. And now.

Since we're at dinner, I don't have my backpack or anything else to put in front of my face so I just put my sweatshirt hood up and look down.

"Katniss, stop hiding," Jo hisses, pulling my hood off. "You look like a freak."

"Hello, ladies," Finnick says as he steps forward. He sets his food down on our table as he turns to talk to Annie, something about practice being moved or something. The rest of his friends haven't followed him as he wandered through the tables to us. All six of them are there, including Peeta and the other two boys I saw at lunch.

Peeta and I make eye contact. He lifts his hand to wave and I look down at the table.

"Oh, right, and we have those heels you wanted," Finnick finishes as he picks up his to-go container. "Sorry I forgot them at practice today. But we're heading back now so if you guys want to stop by on your way back we'll be there."

"Yeah, that'd be great," Annie says. "We'll be over soon."

Finnick grins and looks around our table. "Ladies." I swear he smirks in my direction.

"You really are brainless. Blondie can't take his eyes off you," Jo says, turning her head so she can watch the group of boys meet up and walk out. "You could totally get yourself laid if you wanted to."

"Jo," Madge cries, giving her a look.

"Ugh, can we just stop," I say, clenching my hands and taking a few deep breaths. "Okay?"

"Okay," Johanna says. She holds her hands up in the air in mock surrender. She turns to Madge. "Enlighten us on whatever weird shit happened in your creative writing class today."

Madge starts telling us about the fox-faced girl in her class whose story was being critiqued that day and apparently it was a really graphic dystopian setting where kids were forced to kill each other. Madge hated it, said it gave her the creeps, and the others agree. I'm paying attention enough to nod along but I can tell I'm zoning out because I don't hear much else about the plot.

Instead my mind goes to Peeta and I get angry with myself. Of course he's eyeing me like that – he thinks now that he has this thing going that maybe he can hook up with me. I know what happens on this campus during the parties. People find hook up partners. I'm not interested in that. I'm not really interested in love at all right now. I'm interested on my studies and doing well in school so I don't lose my scholarship. My parents would absolutely kill me.

Madge taps my shoulder. "Come on, Katniss. Time to go."

I let out a breath and follow behind the rest of them. We drop our dishes at the racks and then head out into the brisk night. When we turn into the Townhouses, I forget for a moment that we told Finnick we'd stop by for Madge's shoes and almost say something. But I remember so I just keep toward the back of our group. Luckily the other three are talking about something and don't really notice – or if they do they don't say anything, which is a rarity really.

We knock on number seventy-five and hear a few voices yelling for someone to get the door. There's a loud set of footsteps that we can even hear outside, almost like someone is running, and then a bellow of laughter we can hear through the closed door. Finally it opens and Peeta is standing in front of us.

"Hey, girls, come in. Finn's just getting your shoes."

I realize when we walk in that, no, Finnick is _not_ getting the shoes. Finnick is lounging on the couch, his salmon all but forgotten in its plastic to-go container on the coffee table, and yelling at the television. It's a basketball game of some sort. I can't tell the teams.

"NO!" he shouts. The red team scored a basket. He's obviously rooting green.

"Finnick, I thought you were getting the shoes," says one of the boys sitting in a chair. He and Peeta exchange a look and then laugh. The other four of them are too focused on the television to notice.

"Whatever, someone else get the – OH! For God's sakes, make a fucking shot for once in this game!"

The boy who asked, the sober contact at the party whose name I can't seem to remember, turns with a shake of his head. He shrugs as if to say _what are you gonna do?_ "I'll get 'em," he says, standing up and walking toward the stairs.

Peeta turns to the four of us with a smile. Does he have to be so polite and nice? Why couldn't he be a douche? It'd be so much easier to live with what I did if he was.

"He left them on his desk this morning," Peeta tells us. "They didn't end up in his bag."

"I think he just has a fetish," the blond who was with Peeta at lunch says, his eyes still glued to the TV.

Finnick shakes his head but keeps his eyes on the game. "Shut up, Cato. I know where you sleep."

There's a timeout and it cuts to commercial just as footsteps are heard on the stairs. It's almost as if we're in a whole different room. All of the boys turn and give us their attention. I keep to the back of our group, attempting to hide behind Madge. They exchange small talk for a few minutes, Madge gets her shoes, and we make to leave. Peeta, the goddamn gentleman he is, escorts us to the door. Unfortunately, my hiding place means I'm the last one out.

"See you around, Katniss," he says. I look up, a little in shock that he remembers my name, and see that he's smiling. It's not cocky either. It's the just the right mixture of shy and confident to be genuine.

"Sure," I blurt out before hustling out the door behind my friends.

Johanna laughs as soon as the door's shut but she doesn't say anything for once.

…

I have a pretty strict schedule that I follow most days of the week. I get up in the morning and go for a run. Then I come back and shower before my first class of the day. I go to class, staying on campus in between so I can actually do work, and then head back to the dorm unless I have something I need to get done. If that's the case, I hole myself up in a library or in the corner of a dining hall.

On Thursday I'm in the library.

I have a lot to do for next week, which are the last few days of classes for the semester. I have a final paper and an exam in physics. After that, I have two days to study before I start my almost never-ending stream of finals. I'd like to get my paper finished except for final editing tonight.

When I have a lot of work I find the most remote corner of the library on the bottom floor to set up my things. Most people use the main floor and the two floors above. No one ever thinks about going to the basement. There are usually only a few other people with me. Tonight there's one other kid, a boy on his laptop who looks like he needs a shot of 5-hour Energy or something because I'm afraid he's going to doze and crash his head straight into his keyboard.

I let my fingers fly across the keys, busting out the first page in under an hour – only eleven more to go to get the minimum page limit. I crack my neck. It's going to be a long night.

"Big paper?"

I jump in my seat and literally feel my heart skip a beat. I look at my paper and see that my fingers slammed the keyboard when I jumped. Now the beginning of my new paragraph says: "Breaking down the phrase, we can see Augustine's greatest ijeoga p." I delete the new addition and look up.

Peeta nods to the chair in front of me on the other side of the table. "Mine if I join you?"

What am I supposed to say? No? I shrug and he sits.

"What are you working on?" he asks as he reaches into his backpack and removes his laptop. He puts it on the table and fires it up.

"Paper," I mumble. He gives me a look that tells me he wanted to know the subject. Duh, of course I'm working on a paper. "St. Augustine, specifically the _Confessions_."

He nods. "Theology core?" I nod. "Nice. I've got a date with James Joyce tonight. We can double with you and Augustine."

I find myself chuckling despite myself and try to stop. He grins and pulls out a worn copy of _Ulysses_. "Want my advice?" he says, leaning a little toward me. "Never take _Irish Lit_. Professor Coin's a hard ass."

"Not a problem," I say. "I'm not an English major."

He grins. "What are you then?"

"Biology."

Peeta sets _Ulysses_ down on the table and whistles softly. "Smarty," he says. "You science majors are tough as nails. You might be able to handle her after all."

I look down at my laptop as to not start laughing. English isn't my best subject. I'm not very good at putting things into words.

We work for a little bit. The only noises in the basement are our fingers against the keyboards and the soft snores of the boy at the other table. It's about an hour later when he startles awake, looks at the time, and gives up. He packs his things away and walks out, leaving me and Peeta alone. Peeta keeps working for a few minutes but I'm hyper aware of when he takes his earbuds out of his ears.

"Want anything from the vending machine?"

I shake my head but he still comes back with two candy bars – a Twix and a Milky Way – and he holds them out to me so I can choose. "If it's going to be a long night, we'll need some sugar." I just stare at them. "Come on, Katniss. Just take one."

He ends up with the Twix.

Peeta shuts his laptop while he eats and I try to hide behind mine. I've almost successfully avoided Peeta all week and he must have checked every inch of the library before settling on a spot in order to see if I was in the library at all. Or maybe he was just lucky. I'd much rather like to think he's a creep. It's easier to hate a creep.

He taps his fingers on his laptop. "So are you pre-med?" When I don't say anything, he rubs the back of his neck. "Sorry if that's presumptuous. It just seems that every bio major I meet is going to medical school."

I shake my head. "No. I'm not pre-med. I don't like blood."

"Really?" He cocks his head to the side in this really innocent and childlike way, kind of like he's trying to wrap his head around something important. "So how do you do bio?"

"I don't take anatomy lab."

He chuckles. "No skinning cats for you?"

"If it was my sister's cat, I'd skin it in a heartbeat."

I can't believe I just said that and to an almost complete stranger no less. Peeta doesn't seem to think anything of it though. He just laughs a little louder. I'm glad we're in the basement; we'd get kicked out on the other floors. "I'm guessing you and her cat don't get along." I shake my head.

He leans back a little in his chair. I run my fingers over the touchpad to wake my computer up. I don't want to be the first one to start typing again, it seems a little rude, but this awkward silence is really cutting into my essay time. I'd really like to not pull an all-nighter.

My resolve to not seem rude fades with that and I grab the _Confessions _and start typing again. Peeta seems to realize that our little chat is over and puts his earbuds back in. His head bobs a little with the music as he types.

Essays really aren't my strong suit. It always takes me forever to write them. Memorization and exams come easier. When midnight strolls through, then one, then two, I wonder if maybe I should just stop, put my books away, and come again tomorrow. I look over at Peeta and he's typing furiously. I wonder how long his paper has to be.

At two thirty I shut my laptop to call it a night. Peeta looks up and shuts his too.

"You couldn't have just finished," I mutter.

He shakes his head. "Nah, Joyce and I parted ways," he says, starting to pack up as well. "I figured I'd work on application essays as long as you were working. Sometimes it helps to have someone so focused next to you."

I nod and we both put on our coats. Are we really going to walk out of here together? What have I done to deserve this? I couldn't have made out with the guy who wants as little to do with me as I want to do with him, could I? Where the hell are all the guys who Madge and Johanna have gotten with all these years, the ones who avoid your eye?

We walk out into the night in relative silence, which I think must be hard for Peeta because he keeps opening and closing his mouth like guppy. I try to send him vibes not to say anything. He's doing well. We're almost at the place where we'll need to separate so he can go to the Townhouses and I can go to my dorm.

We get to our separation place and I give him a quick nod goodbye before turning toward my dorm. I think I've lost him when I hear my name being shouted.

"Hey, Katniss, wait!" I turn around and Peeta is rubbing the back of his neck. "Uh, do you want to get coffee or hot chocolate or something tomorrow?"

I can feel my eyes grow wide. "What?"

"Look, I'm just going to come right out and say it," he says. "I think you're cool and I'd like to get to know you a bit better than a drunken kiss on a picnic table. What do you say?"

I don't say anything. I nod dumbly though and manage to get Peeta's number programed into my phone. It's all mostly done in a daze and I walk back to the dorm on autopilot. That night I can't sleep. My head is spinning too much to close my eyes.

I think I just agreed to go out on a date.

…

The Cornucopia is a small café-style dining hall on campus where students tend to go between classes because they have the best coffee. They also have other specialty drinks, cocoas, ciders, frappes, as well as a case of bakery items and sweets. Through my classes, my heart was pounding in my chest so loudly that I could barely pay attention. I half hope that Peeta decided to stand me up.

But that's not the case. Peeta already has cookies on the table when I arrive. When I inspect them, they aren't Cornucopia cookies. I think he brought them himself.

"I didn't know what you'd want for a drink," he says, almost sheepishly although I don't know why. "I would have had that ready too."

I shake my head. "It's fine."

When we walk to the counter, I try to remember everything that I have ever heard about dates. Am I supposed to pay for Peeta since he brought cookies? Or, maybe it's not a date and I'm supposed to just pay for myself. I guess I'll figure it out when we get to the cashier.

"Hey, Clove, what's up?" Peeta says as he gets to the counter. The cashier is a small girl with dark hair. I've seen her around the science building before but I can't place her.

"Hey, Peeta!" she says, going from looking bored to suddenly interested. "That was a great party last weekend. Are you having another one?"

"Nope, we're all done for the semester, although Finn's trying to weasel us into having an unregistered," Peeta tells her. "It's not going to happen though."

She shrugs. "Well, we're having one tomorrow night. Glimmer picked the theme: Have A Slutty Christmas. You guys are more than welcome."

"Thanks," he says. "I'm sure Finn and Cato would appreciate the theme."

"I know, I saw Cato's get up last weekend," she says rolling her eyes. "Ugh. Anyway, what can I get you?"

"I'm going to have tea, just milk no sugar." Then he turns to me. "Katniss, what do you want?"

I guess he wants to buy for me. "I can buy my own," I start, but he shakes his head and points up to the menu.

"No way, my treat," he says. "What do you want?"

After the solid conversation between Peeta and Clove, I feel extraordinarily out of place. They seem so comfortable together and here I am awkwardly following behind. I mumble the first thing my eyes land on – hot chocolate – and Peeta orders it, and then decides, since there's no line behind us, that he can introduce me to Clove while we wait.

"Clove, this is Katniss," he says, nodding his head in my direction. He turns to me. "Clove and I lived in the same building freshman year. Nothing bonds you like getting written up together the first weekend you're in college."

She smiles, but I can see her look at me curiously, or maybe maliciously. She's probably trying to figure out what I'm doing with Peeta. "Nice to meet you, Katniss," she says, finally, after a long pause.

When our orders are ready, Peeta puts his hand on my upper back to guide me away back to our table. I shudder, or shiver, under his touch. I'm not sure which.

"How were your classes?" Peeta asks as we sit.

I only had history today. "Fine, you?"

He smirks. "I don't have class on Fridays." Then he pats his backpack. "I did have to drop off the monster I was working on last night to Coin's mailbox before noon though."

"Sounds taxing."

He snorts and brings his cup to his lips, taking a long swig before setting it back down on the table. "I wasn't sure I'd make it."

It's meant as a joke, but I can't help looking at Peeta's body. He's not out of shape – in fact, he's far from it. Broad shoulders, muscular frame, he looks like an athlete in a completely different way from Finnick. But he's not an athlete, not that I know of at least. I don't really know what he does.

"So, Katniss, what's your favorite color?"

I have to shake my head to get back to reality. I open my mouth to answer, but he continues, not letting me speak.

"I realize we didn't really meet in the…" he deliberates over his wording for a minute "…most proper way. But, like I said, I want to get to know you better and I think the best way is to share. So, what's your favorite color? Mine's orange."

"Orange?" I blurt out without thinking. When I think of orange it's not the most pleasant color. I think of the bright obnoxious orange that I've always had an aversion to, even as a child. It didn't help the color when Prim found that mangy orange cat and brought it home.

Peeta ducks his head sheepishly and I wonder if I've hurt his feelings with my outburst. He shakes his head and chuckles nervously. "Not the orange you're thinking of," he says. "More like…have you ever paid attention to the sunset?" I nod. "That kind of orange. The one that bleeds with the pinks and reds of the sky. It's softer and gentler. That orange – not the in-your-face Halloween shade."

He literally just spun poetry about a color without even flinching. He must think that the look on my face is because I'm more appreciative of his favorite color, but I'm actually just in awe of his words. How does he do that? There's no way I can make my color sound nearly as wonderful.

"I like green."

He nods and eyes the Christmas tree in the corner of the room. "Green. I'll keep that in mind."

Time flies in the Cornucopia and it's mostly just back and forth questions about each other, interspersed with a small amount of banter and many cookies, all of which I find out that Peeta made. From scratch. His parents own a bakery in his hometown in New Jersey. His mother wasn't thrilled with his decision to be an English major, especially when he was accepted to PCU's business school and then transferred into the school of education in his second semester, concentrating in secondary education. His inflections change when he talks about his dad. He tells me that he's the one who taught him the recipe for the cookies that I scarf down. After graduation he's looking to do some sort of post-graduate volunteer work and one in Ecuador caught his eye about a year ago because it involves teaching. That application was the one he was working on last night while we were in the library. Ultimately he wants to be a middle school teacher and he laughs when he tells me that he and his brothers have perfected the cookie-cutter triad of predictable careers – teacher, doctor, and the business man who will take over the bakery. I want to ask why his mother wanted him to go to business school if his older brother is already being groomed to take over the bakery, but I don't. It sounds like a sour subject.

My stories aren't nearly as interesting as his. I'm a bio major. A junior. I still don't know what I want to do when I graduate. Basically everything that Peeta knows and already has planned I don't. He just shrugs and tells me that it's fine not to know – Marvel still doesn't and they're graduating in May.

We also exchange just random facts – favorite colors, if we like the windows opened or closed when we sleep, he doesn't put sugar in his tea and I don't really drink tea without it. We both don't like coffee but he enjoys the smell of it.

We sit and talk in the Cornucopia for so long the sun sets outside and it's nearly dinnertime. We end up eating dinner at one of the nearby dining halls and continuing our debate over which _Harry Potter_ was the best book – for the record, it's the first, not the third like he insists. We agree to disagree.

It doesn't even cross my mind to say no when he asks if I want to go into the city with him tomorrow to see the Christmas tree lighting until I'm punching in the code to my room. I rest my head against the door. I've just unknowingly agreed to a second date with Peeta and I'm not sure I even wanted the first.

...

_Peeta Mellark [sent at 3:32pm]: The lighting starts at six, so want to catch the subway around 5ish?_

_Sounds good to me. Meet at the station? [Delivered 3:32pm]_

_Peeta Mellark [sent at 3:33pm]: I have to walk right by your dorm to get there. We can walk together._

_Okay I'll meet you outside the building? [Delivered 3:34pm]_

"Who the hell are you texting?"

I look up from my phone and hold it protectively in my hands, as if one of them is going to steal it. To be honest, it wouldn't surprise me. "None of your business," I say.

Jo rolls her eyes. "It is my business when your buzzing goes off every five seconds. It's distracting me from the movie." She waves her hand in front of the TV. "I've skipped back three times already. At least turn the goddamn thing on silent."

_Peeta Mellark [Sent at 3:34pm]: Sounds great!_

I send him a smiley face and then go into my settings to turn vibrate off, keeping it face up in my lap so I can see if the screen illuminates with a new message. I'm not disappointed.

_Peeta Mellark [Sent at 3:36pm]: Dress warm it's supposed to be cold tonight!_

I find a snowman emoticon with a scarf and send it to him. Then I set the timer on my phone to go off in about forty minutes so it will give me time to get out of my pajamas and into actual clothes before I have to go meet him.

Once the movie ends, Madge sticks in a _Friends_ DVD and I use it as my cue to go get ready. I throw on a pair of jeans, a sweater, and a pair of thick socks to keep my feet warm in my boots. Then I grab my jacket, mittens, and a scarf, stealing a quick glance at my phone to see the time. I have about fifteen minutes before I should go down. I go back out and sit in my chair, resetting my alarm to make sure I leave on time.

"Where are you going?" Madge asks.

I bite my lip. "The Christmas tree lighting downtown."

"Gee, thanks for the invite," Johanna says, lifting her head from where she's laying on the couch to look at me. "Who are you going with?"

I haven't actually told my friends about Peeta yet. The night of the library they were all in bed when I got back and then the next day I was out the door before any of them woke up. When I came back that night, they must have figured I got dinner on my own because I was working on my school stuff. They were already comfortably talking by someone else with food trays and the television on. How am I supposed to bring it up? Just casually blurt out to the room _oh by the way I'm going to the Christmas tree lighting with Peeta tomorrow_?

I play with a loose thread on my sweater. "Peeta."

Madge gets it first – her eyes widen almost comically and she turns her head to me so quickly I can hear her muscles strain. Johanna almost seems like she's trying to figure out why the name is so familiar. Then she looks at me too.

"Holy shit! Blondie?" I nod. "You're going to the tree lighting with the guy you hooked up with at Finnick's party?" I nod again. "How did he get your number? Annie wouldn't have given it to Finnick. Did you give it to him when you were drunk?"

I shake my head. "No…I…well, he found me in the library and we talked and then the next day we went to the Cornucopia and then we got dinner–"

"You got dinner?" Jo exclaims.

"And you didn't tell us?" Madge actually seems a little hurt.

I look back down at the thread on my sweater. "What was I supposed to say?"

"Uh, I got dinner with Blondie," Jo says, sounding like she wants to add a really long duh to the end of it.

The door to the dorm opens and Annie walks in, dropping her swim bag on the floor and dragging her feet into the common room, collapsing on the floor. She does this sometimes when she gets back from a swim meet. She flips herself over so she's on her back and looking up at us. I can tell what she's going to ask before she does it – it's rare that she comes back from a meet and we're are dressed in anything but sweats or pajamas.

"Where you off to, Kat?"

Jo replies before I can. "On a date."

Annie sits up and her mouth drops. "What? With who?"

Madge answers this time. "Finnick's roommate."

Annie at least breaks into a smile. "Aww, yes," she says. "You guys are cute together."

"It's just the tree lighting. It's not even really a date," I lie.

Johanna rolls her eyes. "It's most definitely a date. Unless he brings his contingency of roommates, in which case I expect you to text us an invite, it's a date."

"Yeah, Katniss, you've already gotten dinner together and he paid for you. It's totally a date," Madge says. She eyes me. "Is that not what you want?"

My roommates have heard my 'I don't need a boyfriend' speech more times than they can count in the past three years. It's always been true. I haven't needed one. I'm not here for an MRS degree, I'm here to learn. But maybe this isn't so much about necessity as it is about desire.

I feel my phone vibrate in my lap. _Peeta Mellark [sent at 4:56]: Heading over now. See you soon!_

"I have to go," I say, standing up. They yell after me but I don't answer, shutting the door quickly behind me as I go.

…

Despite there being no snow on the ground yet, the downtown area where they are lighting the tree is festive for the season. Every bit of the tree is covered in lights and there are wreaths on every building. Santa sits in a sleigh being pulled by a horse through the crowds, stopping to say hello to the children every once in a while. It's a bitter night so the event organizers have six or seven hot chocolate stands and everyone I see seems to have a cup. A local band plays Christmas carols on the stage they have set up for the actual start of the event.

Peeta puts his arms around my shoulders when I shiver. It shocks me at first and I feel myself going stiff. But it doesn't mean anything. He's just trying to keep me warm. I try to relax a little and lean my back a little into his chest for warmth.

"I've never actually gone to this before," I tell him. In my three winters at school, we've never gone into the city for the tree lighting. We have our own smaller one on campus that I've been to once before, but it doesn't compare to this.

"What do you think?" he asks.

"I like it."

Peeta puts his chin on my head. "I'm glad."

Caesar Flickerman, the local television news anchor, starts the event by shouting into the crowd for Santa to come help him start the countdown. Once Santa is escorted through the crowd to the stage, the two ask the crowd to help them with counting down from ten. There are a group of kids next to us who jump up and down, screaming each number as we count. I can feel Peeta turn to look at them and his chest bounces against my back as he chuckles.

The tree lights up with multi-color lights and a giant star at the top. Everyone begins to cheer and Peeta squeezes my shoulders. I've never felt more comfortable than in this moment. There are others like Peeta and I, couples of people standing together with their hands clasped or their arms locked. Why am I comfortable with this when I still barely know Peeta? We met a week ago and yet I feel good being here. Maybe it's just Peeta's easy nature with people. It must be.

Instead of push our way through the subway, Peeta and I decide to take a walk around the decorated downtown until the after-lighting crowd has passed. It's cold, but we stay warm enough as we walk.

"I love this time of year," Peeta says. I give him a funny look and he smirks at my implication. "Not because it's Christmas and gifts but because everything just seems so peaceful. People are so spirited, you know?"

Looking around at all the shop windows with lights in their windows, I understand what he means.

After a walk through the shops, we're too cold to care about crowds and head to the subway. Most of the people have already gone through and normal Saturday night outbound traffic is what we ride with back to campus. We're fairly alone, with maybe one or two others, when the train stops at our school, which happens to be the last stop on this particular line. It's a quick walk through campus before we arrive at my dorm.

"I had a really good time," I tell him. "Thank you."

"No, thank _you_. It would have been pretty lonely by myself," he jokes. Then he smiles the smile that always gets me, the one that's just a touch too shy for such a suave and charming boy like Peeta. "But in all seriousness, I had a really good time too, Katniss."

He rings his hands together. "I mean, you probably have a ton of stuff to do now, but do you want to come back to my place and watch a movie or something? I just…I guess I'm not ready for the night to be over." Before I can say anything, he groans. "God that sounded bad. You don't have to. I'll just see you sometime, okay?"

He spins around, stuffing his hands in his pockets and starting to walk toward the Townhouses. My mind doesn't think; I just react. In fact, it is such an impulse that I miss the few seconds it takes me to shout Peeta's name, run to his side, and take his hand. This is the first time in my life, I realize after, that I'm not doing something because I have to do it. I study because I have to in order to get a good grade. I go to class so I can learn. I work during the summer to pay for my books. But I take Peeta's hand because I want to, not because it's necessary. I let that desire that pools in the bottom of my gut take over.

His roommates are gone and Peeta only lets go of my hand to rush around tidying up their mess. There are shot glasses on the counter and an open handle next to them that Peeta hurries to put away.

"Sorry about the mess," he says. I shake my head and look around the Townie. It seems so much bigger as compared to the last time. Maybe it has to do with the fact that it's just Peeta and me in this place. I shoot a text to Madge to let her know I'm back on campus so they don't feel the need to wait for me and then move into the living area while Peeta scurries in the kitchen.

When he comes into the living area with me, he grabs a couple binders full of DVDs and opens it to me. "Take a peek, see what interests you," he says. "We can watch it down here on the TV or on my laptop upstairs – it'll be quieter up there once the music starts next door. Whatever you want."

Between the six of them, they have a large DVD collection. I pick something I think we'll both enjoy and hand it over to him. He grins when he takes the disc. "_Good Will Hunting._ Great choice."

"Let's go upstairs," I tell him. It'll be more comfortable to lounge in the bed, kick our feet up, and I really don't want to feel the vibrations of the music next door halfway through the movie.

"Awesome, come on." He directs me to the stairs and we climb to the second floor. He becomes a tour guide, pointing things out as we go. "This is Marvel and Cato's room," he says, pointing to the door at the top of the stairs. "The bathroom, here's another shower – weird, I know, but it comes in handy with six of us – Thresh and Woof's room right there and then me and Finn over here."

His room is on the far end with the window facing the backyard. Finnick's bed is under the window while Peeta shares a wall with Thresh and Woof. His bed is on the highest setting so he can fit a dresser under it and he has to lift me to get up on it. His bed is comfortable though just as I expected. His wall is covered with pictures and drawings. I look around while he gets everything situated. Above his bed he has a picture of the six of his roommates, one that looks like him and his father when he was maybe four or five. He's covered in flour in the latter one. I bet it was taken in the bakery.

"All set," he says, leaping up onto the bed.

He leans back into his pillows and puts his computer on the shelf at the end of his bed. He opens his arms and I fall into him, cuddling into his side. I remind myself as the movie starts that we met a week ago. Is this too fast? Probably, but I can't seem to make myself stop.

"Is this okay?" Peeta asks. I nod.

I can't get into the movie no matter how hard I try. I'm too aware of Peeta to pay attention. From my place carefully tucked into his side I can feel each inhale and exhale of his lungs. I wonder if the thumping I feel is his heart or mine.

…

For the last four days of school before study days begin and the dreaded week of finals kicks into gear, Peeta and I fall into a steady rhythm. We get lunch together between our classes and work in the library. Upon finding out, Jo dubbed us nerds, but considering everyone is stressed with work that's really all the time we have to be around the other. Plus, since he's in mostly English classes, Peeta only has one sit down final and it's on the first day. The rest are papers that he has to pass in the last day of classes.

"So, what are you guys actually doing?" Madge asks one night toward the end of the week.

"I don't know."

She turns in bed and looks at me through the darkness. "You should figure that out. Make sure you guys are on the same page," she suggests.

That night I stay awake long after Madge falls asleep, my brain unable to shut down. As much as I usually like things in black and white, I've enjoyed not having to put a name on whatever Peeta and I are doing. It makes me feel like less of a hypocrite. But I know Madge's right. She has more experience with this than I do. But what do I want? I value the friendship we've made but as much as I want to deny it I know I'm attracted to him too.

Why do I want to deny it? Because I'm selfish and worried about myself? That's part of it. What if Peeta doesn't want that? And what if he does? I'm scared of that too. I've never wanted that before. I've always tried to keep my mind focused everywhere else when I've thought about it.

It's on our walk back from the library on Thursday night, the music already blaring through the Townhouses because no one ever works on the night before study days begin, that I just blurt it out.

"What are we doing?"

Peeta turns to me, a joke on his tongue but he refrains from asking it. From the way his breath hitches to the way he licks his lips, I know I don't need to expand. He knows what I'm asking.

We stand in our spot, the moment where we need to part for him to go one way and me go the other, for a few long minutes of silence – or maybe it's really only seconds but it feels like eternity.

"I really like you, Katniss," he says finally. "I wasn't looking for anything serious this year because I have no idea where I'm going to be when I graduate, but then I met you. At first it was just the physical attraction, but then I really got to know you and you're so amazing."

He takes my hand in his. "I don't know what's going to happen in May, so I understand if you don't want to try this, but I'm willing to go as far as you want to go."

This is the moment where I have to choose. I could say no, keep my heart intact, and go about my merry way, peacefully ignorant of the beauty and chaos of a relationship. Or, I could say yes. I could tell him that I want to take it as far as we can. I could take the risk, not knowing what is in front of me.

I squeeze his hand and smile. "Let's see where it goes."

Peeta brings his other hand to my cheek and leans down to meet me. The kissing that I remember from the party was awkward and slobbery. It was nice in a way that I felt gratified that someone wanted to kiss me. This is something entirely different.

It's not hurried and our lips move together in a sync we didn't have when we were both drunk. As cliché as it sounds, I feel the butterflies, the beginning of a hunger in my stomach that can only be satiated by Peeta. But, as soon as it starts, Peeta pulls away and delivers one small peck to my forehead.

"I've wanted to do that for a while."

Now that he's said it, I feel like I can admit to the feeling as well.

…

Prim jumps up and down next to my father at the airport, looking more like a five-year-old than someone whose seventeenth birthday is right around the corner. Once I pass through security, she's rushing toward me, wrapping her arms around my neck and squealing in such a high pitch that I can barely make out what she's saying.

"Primmy, calm down," I say, but I feel the same as her. I haven't been home since the end of August. Four months is a long time.

"I've missed you so much!"

Our father laughs and puts a hand on her shoulder. "Quit hoggin' her, Duck."

When we were younger, Prim and I used to follow our father everywhere. It was mostly me following after him and Prim following me. Our mother used to call us his ducklings. The name stuck and he still occasionally uses it as a pet name. It's nice to hear because it means I'm home.

Prim lets go reluctantly and my father takes me in his arms. He smells like coal and it's oddly comforting.

"Come on, girls," he says after we've collected my suitcase from the luggage turnstile. "Home we go."

Dad throws the luggage in the bed of the truck and Prim jumps into the cab. I take this time to pull out my phone and waiting for it to power on. Then I send a text to Peeta.

_I just landed. Safe and sound [Delivered at 2:49pm]_

I hop in the truck besides Prim. We talk with what must sound like meaningless chatter. We talk about my classes, Prim's soccer season, the piano recital she's preparing for, how many times I went to church while I was at school (I lie on that one – Dad wouldn't appreciate knowing I went maybe once). We're just pulling off 119 to Route 85, almost home, when I feel the vibration in my pocket.

_Peeta Mellark [Sent at 3:38pm]: Have a nice flight?_

My fingers fly across the screen, telling him that it was fine and asking how he's doing at the bakery. I send it, set it down in my lap, and feel Prim's intent stare. She smirks.

"Was that the boy?"

Prim called me fourteen minutes after Peeta and I made our relationship 'Facebook official' despite it being two in the morning on a school night. I thought doing it that early in the morning would help with the influx I'd get. It didn't. Madge, Johanna, and Annie all insisted on telling me everything that they thought I'd need to know from the moment they found out to the moment we separated for break. After telling Prim to go back to sleep and that I'd talk to her the next day, she texted me through the day and then called as soon as she stepped off the bus from school. And even though my parents don't have Facebook, because Prim knows everyone in town knows, so I know they do too.

Dad doesn't say anything, but Prim keeps looking at me with her big eyes begging for information. I know she has stalked him online already so I don't need to tell her anything she can find out there. She wants to know the other stuff – how we met, what he's like, stuff like that. But right now Peeta's texts are coming through and I'll have the entire break to talk to Prim.

_Peeta Mellark [Sent at 3:40pm]: The bakery's fine. I'm in the front and we've got a little bit of a lull now. Are you almost home?_

_Yep. We're about fifteen minutes away [Delivered at 3:40pm]_

_Peeta Mellark [Sent at 3:41pm]: Well then I won't keep you from them. We can talk when they get bored with you ;)_

_Haha. That might be sooner than you think [Delivered at 3:41pm]_

I slip my phone in my pocket and look out the window, watching the rolling hills. We pull into town and finally our driveway. I can see Momma at the kitchen window as we all hop out. She comes to greet us at the door and gives me a hug. I get my quiet nature from her.

"Oh, it's good to have you back," she says finally after she lets go. Prim walks into the house under my arm and picks up Buttercup. The demon is the only one not happy to see me. He hisses from Prim's arms.

…

"This is my room. It's not anything special, but at least I don't have to share," I say, taking the computer and circling the room. I cleaned a little when we decided to Skype each other.

Peeta smiles. "Your room literally looks like a forest it's so green!"

It is. I have a green bedspread and a green area rug that covers the wood. The walls are also green, but a softer mintier color than I would have liked. But, when I painted it at ten, my mother didn't think forest green was suitable for a wall.

I flop back down on my bed, lying on my stomach and look at the screen. Peeta's in his own room and it's not orange. His walls are gray and his bedspread almost looks flannel.

"How's home?"

He shrugs. "It's good. A little frantic, like it always is around the holidays trying to make sure we have everything set, orders ready. Rye's driving in from Columbia tomorrow and Dad's all worried he's going to be driving through the snow." He rolls his eyes but smiles good-naturedly. "But he'll be the first one to ask him tomorrow what took him so long."

There's a knock on my door and then it opens. Prim walks into the room. "Mom says that dinner's almost ready," she says. She eyes me, looking between my position and my laptop. Before I know it, she's jumped into bed beside me, bouncing on the mattress ungracefully and hitting my arm. "Is this _the boy_?"

My cheeks must be a dark shade of red. She takes this as an answer.

"Hi, I'm Prim!" she says, waving at the screen.

Peeta grins and fights a few chuckles at Prim's behavior. "The sister with the devil cat," he says. Prim turns to me for a split second to glare, but then looks back at the screen. "I'm Peeta."

"Dinner's almost ready, so I gotta go," I say, hitting Prim's shoulder with my own. She doesn't take the hint to leave. "Talk to you soon?"

"Of course, I'll text you later." He gives me that lopsided grin that makes my stomach twist. "Nice to meet you, Prim."

We disconnect and Prim rolls over on her back, clutching her hands to her heart. I roll my eyes and put the laptop on my desk. She scrambles up to watch me, her face splitting in a smile from ear to ear.

"Oh my goodness, he's so cute!" Prim squeals. "He's got such a funny voice."

My sister has never been above the Mason-Dixon line and not really outside of our small town. While Peeta doesn't have a thick New Jersey accent like the ones in the movies, he does sound different from the people who live in our town. I suppose I've gotten used to it after spending three years in the north.

"He does not."

Prim giggles. "Aww, Kitty-Kat, you're blushing!"

"Come on, you," I say, walking toward the door. "Dinner."

…

Usually I love going home for break. I never go home during the semester, considering the only longish break we have is Thanksgiving and that's only a few weeks before break. Since Madge lives thirty minutes from campus and has plenty of room for one more at her family's feast, I go there for the holiday rather than spend money on back-to-back plane tickets. This year, however, when January rolls around, I'm excited to get back to school.

And it completely terrifies me.

Peeta and I texted, called, and Skyped all through break and I'm not entirely sure how relationships are supposed to work, but I feel like I'm getting way too attached way too quickly. We've only known each other for about a month now but I can hardly remember what it was like before I knew him.

I step through security at the airport and adjust my backpack on my shoulders and reach into my pocket to make sure I have my subway card at the ready. At the baggage claim area, there's a boy standing in his winter coat, a beanie, and a piece of paper with my name on it. When he looks up and I make contact with the bright blue eyes I've been waiting to see in person for a month, my heart skips a beat.

I never thought I'd be the girl who runs through the airport, you know the girls you see in those cheesy rom-coms that Madge likes so much, but suddenly I am.

Before I know it, I've got my arms wrapped around Peeta's neck, my legs around his waist as he hoists me up, and my lips mesh with his. My heart feels whole for the first time in a month.

I am so screwed.

…

My parents insisted on knowing everything about Peeta. Mom wanted to know more about what he looked like, what his hobbies were, how we met, and Dad was more concerned about two things: how he treated me and what his future plans were – as if being in a relationship for a month was determining that we were planning on marrying in the near future. The whole college dating scene, much less the hook up culture, is something that goes over their heads completely. They met their senior year of high school, got engaged at graduation, and had me a year later. Love at first sight, they always said.

When I mentioned that Peeta was the head of a service organization on campus, both my parents were overjoyed. My father was less thrilled when I mentioned that Peeta was applying for a few positions in post-graduate volunteerism and his top-choice program is a two-year commitment teaching English in Ecuador. To be honest, it's something I've pushed to the back of my mind because I don't really want to think about that.

And that's fairly easy to do when we're back on campus without my parents breathing down my neck. There are other pressures now that we're back on campus.

Johanna, Madge, and Annie have all given me their advice on relationships. Annie gives me ideas for dates. Johanna and Madge drag me to Planned Parenthood, claiming that even if we're not having sex now it's better to be on the pill and not have to worry. Considering my parents would have a stroke if they thought I was even entertaining the idea of having sex right now, I'm glad I have them to help me do this. It hadn't even crossed my mind.

My three roommates benefit from my relationship with Peeta. They get invited to all of their parties now. I'm not a big partier. Peeta knows this and doesn't push me to come, but I want to go just to see him. By the end of January, the beginning of February, I've been to all of their parties and for the most part Peeta and I stay for about an hour before either going up to his room to make out if we're drunk or going back to my room to talk and watch a movie if we're both relatively sober.

"I've got watermelon and blue raspberry, come and get it!" Johanna shouts once the door to the dorm shuts. Johanna turned twenty-one over break we don't need to use her brother's friend Blight as our supplier anymore.

We buy the cheapest stuff we can get our hands on. It's hot going down and burns all the way to my stomach. But if I'm going to handle being in that overcrowded Townie tonight, I can't go sober.

Finnick answers the door when we get there, not looking the least bit happy about being the sober contact. He waves us in. Madge and Jo practically skip over to the beer pong table while Annie hangs back to talk to Finnick. I set out on a mission to find my boyfriend. He's standing near the patio door with Thresh holding a watering can, no doubt full of some mixture of alcohol, and his own beer.

Once Peeta sees me, he pulls me to him. Thresh grabs the watering can so he doesn't spill it all over the place. I'm tipsy, but Peeta's clearly hammered.

"Finnick may or may not have had him drinking doubles for him," Thresh tells me after Peeta lets me out of his death grip. "Keep an eye on him."

Luckily, I've captured Peeta's attention and Thresh can sneak away with both the watering can and Peeta's beer.

Peeta pulls me back to him and we sway a little. "Katniss, I'm so glad you're here," he slurs. "I missed you _sooo_ much today."

"Did you?" I ask. He literally saw me at dinner four hours ago, but he nods and gives me a big smacking kiss on the side of the head.

"Uh huh!" He's got that lopsided grin on his face. I think of it as his blissfully happy face. "I didn't know if you were gonna come because you hate this kind of thing, but you did come and I'm so happy to see you."

I roll my eyes but I can't help but laugh. It might be the alcohol coursing through my veins, but there's something cute about Peeta when he's drunk. He sounds like a little boy, when in real life he's the most charming and poised guy in this dorm.

He tugs on my hand and starts walking toward the stairs. "C'mere. Let's go quieter."

I follow him. Finnick and Annie are guarding the stairs. Peeta told me once that you can't leave the stairs unoccupied unless you want random people going to the second floor. Peeta stumbles to the steps and Finnick laughs.

"Dude," he says. "Don't get excited, you're going to have the biggest case of whiskey dick–"

"We're going to quiet so we can talk," Peeta explains. He sounds like he's trying to explain it to a five year old, but he can't be taken seriously with the slur he's got going on.

"Go ahead," Finnick says, standing to let us through. "Have fun, lovebirds."

Peeta leaps up onto the bed and brings me to him so I'm lying on his chest. I can feel myself rising and fall in time with his chest as he breathes. "I really am glad you're here," he says sweetly.

"Me too," I tell him.

When we kiss I feel a buzz completely different from an alcohol-induced one. This one starts in my stomach and floods my entire body, from my fingers to my toes. It's a deep-seated hunger that I just can't satisfy. Then, when my pelvis bumps with his, I choke in his mouth as a shock fills my body.

Peeta looks up at me, his eyes connected with mine the entire time that his hand leaves my cheek and trails down my body. It's like he's watching me, asking some sort of permission. I don't understand why. He fingers the hem of my shirt before lifting it off me, running his lips over my skin. We've done this before. We've done more, but we still haven't gone all the way. His hands begin to roam my body, fiddling with the button on my jeans until it's unclasped.

We are headed for disaster. I'm just drunk enough that if Peeta makes me feel good I'm not going to be able to think straight. And I know Peeta wouldn't want our first time together to be while we're drunk. To be honest, with the stories Jo and them have told me, that might be the best way to go, but I can't do that to Peeta. He's too much of a gentleman. As much as I don't want to stop this now, I'm the only one sober enough to do it.

"Wait," I gasp. "We don't want to do this while we're both drunk."

He pulls back immediately, or as quickly as he can. "You're right," he says. His jaw tenses. I hope I didn't hurt his feelings. The buzz is still flowing through my body, cursing me for stopping.

"The swim meet is in Denver next week," Peeta murmurs. "Finnick will be gone all weekend."

We just end up kissing and talking until he gets to tired, the alcohol making its way through his system. I curl up into his side and wonder if he'll remember any of this in the morning. I kind of hope he does – or at least the last part.

…

Peeta sleeps until three in the afternoon and by that point I'm already at the library and he's too hungover to go farther than the common room in his Townie. Finnick even walks to the dining hall to get him food.

_Peeta Mellark [Sent at 3:14pm]: I'm sorry about last night. I was a real douche wasn't I?_

I can almost hear his sheepishness.

_No you were just drunk. Do you remember anything? [Delivered 3:14pm]_

_Peeta Mellark [Sent at 3:17pm]: Unfortunately I think I remember everything…I sang Zedd to you right?_

_Are you gonna stay the night? Lol yes you did [Delivered at 3:17pm]_

_Peeta Mellark [Sent at 3:17pm]: oh dear god_

_Peeta Mellark [Sent at 3:18pm]: How do you put up with me?_

_Doesn't mean we're bound for life ;) [Delivered at 3:18pm]_

_Peeta Mellark [Sent at 3:18pm]: Obviously. You didn't stay_

_Peeta Mellark [Sent at 3:19pm]: Just kidding_

I take a breath and bite my lip, looking around the library before pressing my thumbs against my screen. I almost feel wrong typing it in the library. I type it and erase it, trying to find the perfect wording, at least four times. It still comes out like crap.

_So about what you said…about Finnick not being there next weekend…I'm game if you are [Delivered at 3:21pm]_

There's no response for a few seconds and my heart literally stops. Is that the one thing he didn't remember? Did he not actually want that? I feel like an idiot before I see the bubble pop up next to his name, indicating that he's typing.

_Peeta Mellark [Sent at 3:23pm]: If you're sure_

_I am [Delivered at 3:23pm]_

And there we go. I've said it.

_Peeta Mellark [Sent at 3:24pm]: Then I'm game too_

…

I'm a bundle of nerves on Friday night.

Peeta's roommates are going to the bars, so their entire Townie will be empty until around two in the morning. I bring a small bag of stuff with me – clothes, my toothbrush and things I need to get ready in the morning. I almost wish I had let Peeta do what he was going to do last weekend. That way it would have been done and over with. But Peeta would have been upset about it and I know that's the reason why I stopped it.

I go over around ten-thirty and he answers the door with his air of confidence that he always has. His smile, which wavers just slightly, is the only thing that shows he's at least a little bit nervous too.

"Hey, come on in," he says, taking my bag and swinging it over his shoulder. We walk up the stairs and he shuts the door, locking it behind him.

I don't really know what I'm supposed to do here. The only thing I have to go on is the movies. I feel like jumping him suddenly isn't the right thing to do. But Peeta is suave and charming and has done this before and knows that I haven't so he takes the lead.

He takes my hand and smiles. "Relax. You look like I'm going to murder you."

"I'm just nervous."

"That's okay," he says, backing up toward the bed and pulling me with him. He moves his hands to my waist and lifts me up on his raised bed, coming to stand between my legs. I feel the hunger start in my belly. "Just relax. We can stop any time."

I nod. And then he kisses me.

It's sweet and gentle at first but then the hunger that's been steadily building in my stomach is taking over my mind. I want him closer. I want his lips on my chin, on my neck, anywhere on my skin. And I want him in this bed. Now.

He loses his shirt before he climbs in with me, hovering over me and sucking on my neck. It feels so incredibly good. My shirt joins his on the ground and Peeta looks down at me with his own hunger apparent in his eyes. I feel a little self-conscious as Peeta stares but then his lips are on my skin again and it feels too good for the tension to remain. He kisses all the way down my body and to my jeans, fingering the button and looking at me for permission. I nod my head.

When we're both in just our underwear, the dread begins to pool, mixing with the desire. My body wants him. I can feel myself aching for him. But I know that it probably won't be this earth-shattering moment. Johanna told me to set my expectations low.

Peeta looks at me and I nod my head, afraid of what will come out of my mouth if I open it.

He drags his fingers over the center of my underwear and I feel myself suck in a deep breath. My entire body shivers. He presses down on a particularly sensitive spot and I bite my tongue, wincing at the pain in my mouth and then quickly trying to cover it up so he doesn't think he's doing anything wrong because he isn't.

I lift my hips, hoping he'll take the wordless instructions and he does, pulling my underwear off completely and dropping it to the floor with the rest of my clothes.

Peeta, who has a skill with words that I do not, hasn't said a word since we started. We make eye contact and he smiles. "You are absolutely beautiful."

I feel absolutely ridiculous laying here in only my bra. I open my mouth to tell him that, but a moan comes out instead when brushes his fingers against me the way he had when I still had underwear on. The hunger in my belly is overcome with pleasure now and I feel myself wanting more as Peeta moves his fingers in a pattern I can't even follow. Then he sticks one of his fingers inside me and my legs fall open instinctively to make the intrusion a little less uncomfortable. But as he pumps his finger into me and rubs that sensitive spot he found earlier, I start to breathe heavy and my fingers claw at his sheets.

And then my entire body turns to jelly.

"Okay?" he asks.

I can't formulate words, even if I wanted to. All I can do is nod my head. My eyes flutter to Peeta's lower half. "Do you…?"

He shrugs. "Depends. If you want to keep going, we'll hold off on that."

I take a deep breath and reach behind me to unclasp my bra. I'm not one for words, especially now, so that's my answer. I hope he understands.

He does.

Johanna's right. It's not really all that pleasurable. In fact, I'd like to block it out of my mind, except for the image of Peeta's face, contorted with pleasure, as he moves inside me. And the after. Peeta washes me in the shower and then we cuddle in his bed and he tells me over and over again how perfect I am and how much he appreciates me. They're the kindest words that anyone, besides my own family, has ever said to me.

As he drifts off, he mumbles that he loves me and the fact that it makes my body warm instead of run completely cold tells me that I'm in way too far to ever jump back out.

…

I've never really been a big fan of Valentine's Day, mostly because I saw it as a consumer holiday. In elementary school, the kids used to use it as a way to tease people – the boys would make cards proclaiming love and crushes and the girls would fall for it.

But when Peeta shows up at my door with a pretty necklace with a single pearl and a plate of cookies, I can't help but smile.

That night, with Peeta's arm wrapped around my waist and my head resting on his other as we drift off to sleep, I let myself imagine a life where Peeta and I are both graduated. He walks through the door with a stack of papers to grade and a little boy with his curls and my eyes comes running to tackle him.

The last thought I remember before falling asleep is that I'm a goner.

…

I'm with Peeta when his phone rings. We're in his Townie with his roommates and mine while we wait for Finnick and Annie to get back from practice so we can go to dinner before the hockey game against our crosstown rivals. It's a little late, but I suppose it's only three in the afternoon in California, which is the headquarters for Heridas Santas, the volunteer program Peeta applied to in late December and phone interviewed with in early February.

He steps out of the room and up the stairs. I can hear him answer before he shuts the door.

None of us can continue our conversations while we wait, and I just keep looking up the stairs, hoping he'll come out soon. It's only a few minutes until my heart starts to pound. I don't know if I should go up there and check on him. But then the door to his and Finnick's room opens and he steps out, walking so steadily and quietly down the stairs that my heart breaks for him. He didn't get in.

He stands at the bottom of the steps, his face etched with shock.

Cato is the one who clears his throat. "Well?"

Peeta looks up and just shakes his head. "I have until April first to give them my answer."

"You're in?" Marvel clarifies.

His face breaks into a smile and he nods his head, still clearly in shock.

All the boys jump up to give him a hug and with the four of his roommates lunging on him he falls to the ground. There's a pile of boys on the floor, cheering and laughing and Woof jumps up to grab a bottle of their fancy liquor they have stored for special occasions. He's just cracking open the bottle when Finnick and Annie walk in.

"What the hell is going on here?" Finnick demands.

"Peeta got into Heridas!" Marvel shouts. It takes five seconds for Finnick to jump into the pile.

I don't even realize the lump that has formed in my throat until Madge takes the seat Peeta once occupied and puts a hand on my shoulder. The boys get off Peeta when Woof puts the drinks on the table, using all of their glassware to serve us all. Peeta makes it a point to meet my eyes when he stands up.

"We need to talk," he mouths.

I nod once and then Peeta is yanked toward the table. I close my eyes and try to swallow the lump in my throat before I do something stupid like cry.

…

_Peeta Mellark [Sent at 8:57am]: Are you free sometime today?_

I stare at my phone for ten minutes before setting it back down on the table. He sent it over an hour ago, but I still haven't been able to respond. What's there to talk about? Peeta is going to Ecuador for two years and that's not exactly conducive for a relationship. I have a test on Monday, granted it's for my sociology class and I'm not too concerned about it, but I'd rather not get dumped before it.

There's a knock at my door and I frown. Madge, Johanna, and Annie are still sleeping. They partied hard last night with Peeta's roommates at the skeezy dive bar near campus they went to with them. Thresh offered to get me Clove's old ID so I could go with them, since I'm the only one whose not twenty-one and doesn't have a fake, but I said I had a headache and told them I was just going to go to bed. Peeta tried to follow me, but as the boy they were all celebrating he couldn't exactly get out of it. Madge also tried to stay behind but I told her to go enjoy herself. I wanted to be alone.

I stand up and walk to the door, betting it's Johanna's lab partner. They have a lab report due tomorrow and were supposed to work on it today.

Peeta jerks his head when I open the door. "Get your coat. We're going for a walk."

It's relatively warm for mid-March and almost all the snow is gone. We don't say anything until we're halfway around the pond that's on the far edge of our campus. Then Peeta stops and faces me.

"I'm calling them today." He says. This is it. "And I'm declining the position."

And I can't do long distan-_wait_.

"What?" I exclaim.

"I can't do it," he says, pulling his hands out of his pockets and clenching them into fists. "Not anymore."

I shake my head. "Peeta, you've wanted to do this for over a year. You're in love with this program."

He nods and looks out over the lake. "I'm in love with you more."

We haven't said those words before, except for that time Peeta unconsciously muttered them in his sleep. I think we've both been holding back, knowing this would happen even if we didn't want to admit it.

He grabs at his hair. "I can't do it, Katniss!" He shakes his head and I can hear the lump in his throat as he talks. "I stayed up all night trying to convince myself that this is still what I want. I didn't sleep because I was been thinking about what will happen if I leave the country for two years. I have to see where we can go. I can't leave you."

My cheeks feel wet. "Peeta." My voice cracks. "You can't. This is your life."

"You're my life now."

"I want you to stay so bad," I tell him. He opens his mouth, but I push up on my toes and kiss his words away. "But, Peeta, you have to think practically. What if we don't work out and you don't do this and end up regretting it?"

I wouldn't be able to live with myself if that happened. I'd feel guilty for the rest of my life.

"I won't."

He always sounds so sure. I nod and Peeta takes me in his arms, sensing that I haven't agreed yet. "Please, just…don't make any decisions until April first," I say into his neck. "Think about it, okay? For me?"

I can feel him nodding, but I can also feel his heart pounding in his chest as well as my own, the one that's asking me how I can betray it so much. Here Peeta is telling me that he would give up everything he ever wanted just to be with me. How can I even think about telling him to leave when I know my heart is breaking just thinking about the moment I have to let go?

…

"He's seriously thinking about declining?" Johanna sighs and shakes her head. "I mean, I knew you guys were getting serious, but…that's huge."

"Do you want him to go?" Annie asks.

I sigh and let my head fall backwards onto the couch. Madge takes my hand. "No, of course not," I say. My eyes are watering again. I feel like I haven't done anything but cry since I came back from the walk with Peeta. "But he's wanted this forever and I just…don't want him to regret not going."

"How many times does he get to come home?" Madge asks.

"He doesn't." The words catch in my throat.

No one says anything after that.

The four of us sit in silence and my mind keeps spinning. He's ready and willing to give up his entire life plan for me and we've been dating for three months. It's too much. Peeta is giving up too much for something that is so new. He says he can find a job after graduation. He'll live close enough to campus that he can come visit me. I want that. I want that more than I can even fathom right now, but I know I can't have it. Not when Peeta has been so excited for this program for longer than he's known me.

…

On March thirty-first, we're lying on his bed. Since Peeta told me that he would give up his position, we've been pretending that April first isn't coming although we both know it is. I know that Peeta's talked to a lot of people on campus besides me. He's talked to his references for the application, the campus minister who mentors the volunteer program he heads, anyone who will listen to him and guide him.

And I knew, when I knocked on the door and he answered it in tears, that he came to the same realization as I did.

"What day do you leave?"

He closes his eyes. "August first."

How is it that something so wonderful has to hurt so badly?

"What do we do now?" Peeta asks. He looks at me with his bloodshot eyes. "Do we just stop? I don't know if I can do that."

"Me neither." This is going to make it hurt a whole lot more in the end, but I have to suggest it. I'm not sure I'll make it through the rest of the semester if I don't. "How about we use these last six weeks before I leave to say goodbye?"

He covers his eyes with the crook of his elbow. "I don't want to say goodbye."

I roll over and press my lips to his, not wanting any more words to come out of his mouth.

…

My last final is on the day after my birthday and Peeta graduates on the nineteenth. Since everyone but the seniors have to move out of the dorms immediately after finals, Madge invites me, Jo, and Annie to spend the next ten days at her house and we'll go to the graduation together. That night I'll be on a flight home.

Peeta looks so handsome in his cap and gown, but I have never seen a faker smile on anyone's face. His parents load up the car with all his stuff and get ready to go home, but Peeta insists on going with me to the airport. He uses his brother's car to drive and holds my hand the entire way to security.

When we get there he holds me so tightly against his chest I think he might be trying to morph our bodies into one.

"It's only two years," he whispers against my hair. "If it's meant to be we'll find each other again."

I reach around him and almost claw at his back. I try to bury my head into his chest. I really don't want to let go. At this moment, I would do anything just to have him stay. It's because I'm selfish. He's going to have the time of his life. But how am I going to survive without him?

Peeta is the one to pull back and gently push me toward the line for the security check. "I love you, Katniss," he says.

I take the few steps back toward him and kiss him one last time. I never told him those words and now my throat is so full of tears that I can't. I can only hope he understands.

Peeta stands in the same place as I walk through the line and get checked, watching me until I'm out of sight. It's only once I round the corner, sure that he can no longer see me, that I collapse on the floor, tears streaming down my face and ugly sobs caught in my throat, my fingers grasping at the pearl necklace because it seems like the only thing I have left. I don't ever want to fall in love again if it hurts this much to lose it.

…

The next time I see Peeta Mellark is at a New Years party, five years later.

* * *

I posted this over on Tumblr as a sort of follower appreciation. I decided to do a follow-up to this to give Everlark a HEA.

Work and chapter title taken from _Say Something _performed by A Great Big World

Heridas Santas is a fictious volunteer organization that I based off of a few organizations that I'm familiar with. Heridas Santas translates to "Holy Wounds" in English (according to Google Translate/if anyone speaks Spanish and this is horribly wrong, please let me know), which is an illusion to the five wounds of Christ during the Crucifixion. There are a few references through the story that indicate that Katniss and Peeta attend a Catholic university, and thus the program Peeta chooses is Catholic as well, hence the name.

You can find me on Tumblr at dracoisalooker76


	2. Chapter 2

_Many thanks to Swishywillow for prereading this beast and giving me the courage to post it. I hope you all enjoy it._

* * *

**02: In This World Full of People (there's one killing me)**

I splash water onto my face in the bathroom on the flights side of security and look into the mirror. I'm a complete and utter mess. With my bloodshot eyes and snotty nose, I look like I've either been crying the whole flight or I'm high with a cold. Of course, the first is correct. Since Peeta left my line of vision, I haven't stopped crying. I even called Madge while I was sitting in the corner of the airport trying not to draw too much attention to myself so she could talk me down. It worked for a bit, but the minute I looked out my window and saw the city disappearing as we ascended, the tears started again. Luckily, the kind woman sitting beside me didn't seem to care. She actually ordered my complimentary soda and snack for me when I couldn't. Cecelia, with her three kids, had seen her fair share of broken hearts and she told me that everything happens for a reason after she somehow prodded all the details out of me. I'm not usually one for talking to strangers, but my words began flowing as soon as she asked.

We split ways at Dulles, where we both had different connecting flights, but it made the first leg of my trip a little easier.

I dip some paper towels in the cool water flowing from the tap and press it to my eyes, trying to reduce some of the puffiness before I go out to meet my family. It doesn't work too well. There's no hiding the heartbreak on my face. It's as plain as day.

Prim is idling in our dad's truck in the drop-off lane. I chuck my suitcase and backpack into the bed of the truck before jumping into the passenger's seat. Prim doesn't waste any time before reaching over the bench to grab me. That's when the tears start again. At this point, I'm surprised I have any left.

Last night, Prim was the one I called when my roommates were all asleep and I was panicking about what the next day would bring. She answered on the first ring, even though it was late on a school night, as if she knew it was coming. I sat on the Undersees' patio as I talked to Prim into the early hours of the morning. I bet that's why it's Prim picking me up. She knew I wouldn't want to be around my parents right now.

"I'm okay," I tell her, pushing away. "Let's go."

She eyes me and then nods, pulling away from the curb. I lean my head on the window and pull out my phone. My lock screen is still a picture of Peeta and me. I should change that, but even as I go through my photos to try and find a good one I can't bring myself to actually switch it. To avoid it, I answer Madge's text, asking me to text her back when I landed, and when I send it I look through my messages. Peeta's conversation is fourth on the screen. I click on it, because clearly I just want to make myself hurt.

_Peeta Mellark [Sent May 19, 2014, 1:54pm]: Okay i think I see you. Johanna's in a purple dress standing on the picnic table right?_

I know it's a bad idea, but I do it anyway. I click the little iMessage bubble and pull up the keyboard.

_Are you home yet? [Delivered May 19, 2014, 8:43pm]_

I don't want to say that I hold the phone in my hand, staring down at the screen and my little blue bubble that doesn't have a response, but that'd be a lie because that's exactly what I do. I hold the phone in my hands, using my thumb to keep the screen from going black, for the remainder of the song playing on the radio.

My breath catches when I see the little bubble pop up, indicating that he's typing.

_Peeta Mellark [Sent 8:47pm]: Not yet. About an hour more. You?_

_Prim and I are driving back now [Delivered 8:47pm]_

The little bubble doesn't pop up again and, after a minute of deliberation, my fingers desperately move of their own accord.

_I miss you already [Delivered 8:49pm]_

This time, he does type back.

_Peeta Mellark [Sent 8:50pm]: I miss you too_

_Peeta Mellark [Sent 8:50pm]: But are you sure this is a good idea?_

_Peeta Mellark [Sent 8:51pm]: I just don't want you to end up hurt in the end_

I know what he's getting at. Peeta and I decided to do a clean break. Once he dropped me off at the airport that was supposed to be it. Peeta thought it would help me to spend the summer trying to reconcile with the fact that starting in August his forms of communication would be limited. Per the recommendations of the program, and in order to live in solidarity with the students they were teaching, the volunteers at Heridas Santas were encouraged to leave their computers and personal electronics behind. There would be one communal computer at the house for them to blog and do online journals or whatnot so their families could hear about their travels. They would get cellphones in Ecuador, but that meant any phone calls to the United States would be long distance international calls.

But the idea of not texting Peeta until he left sounded easy until I actually had to act on it.

_I'm already hurting. I'll be fine [Delivered 8:51pm]_

_Just stay with me okay? [Delivered 8:51pm]_

_Peeta Mellark [Sent 8:52pm]: Okay._

...

We decide that there won't be much harm in texting each other when we feel the need. I mean, we won't need to be in constant contact. Just big things that we want to tell each other. Or when we're bored. Or when Peeta and his mom get into a fight or when Prim's stupid cat disappears for a day and I can't handle her sobbing without feeling bad about not caring if the cat comes back or not. Or when Prim's stupid cat comes back and I lock it outside in hopes that it will run away again, an action that Prim doesn't take kindly to and we stop speaking for a while.

So, really, we don't talk too much. It isn't like before when we were always with each other or talking in some way. We're gradually breaking up, I guess. We decided on no Skype, and no actual calls unless it's really important. Just texting.

"Who are you texting?"

I look up and see Prim staring at me from the couch. We're all watching a movie and Prim's one of those types of movie watchers that gets frustrated when people start to multitask. When we were little, she wouldn't even let my dad read the newspaper while we watched some Disney cartoon for the fifth time in a row.

"Peeta," I mutter.

She frowns and, even in the darkness Prim insists we watch movies in, I don't miss the look my parents share.

"I thought you broke up," Prim says.

"Yeah, but we're still friends."

Prim shakes her head and turns back toward the television. "Whatever."

I turn back to my phone and ignore her. What does she know? Break ups in high school, at least from what I remember seeing, were always huge deals. Ours isn't. We're just taking a break while Peeta's out of the country. He said so himself at the airport – if it's meant to be, it'll happen when he gets back.

...

_Peeta Mellark [Sent June 1, 2014, 2:14am]: Housing assignments went live at midnight and I spent the last two hours stalking them. Help I think I'm crazy %D_

_Is that supposed to be a crazy face? [Delivered 10:13am]_

_Peeta Mellark [Sent 11:30am]: I guess. I think I was a little delirious by that point._

_So... [Delivered 11:31am]_

_Peeta Mellark [Sent 11:31am]: ?_

_Tell me about your housemates dummy [Delivered 11:31am]_

_Peeta Mellark [Sent 11:32am]: Oh haha_

_Peeta Mellark [Sent 11:32am]: Still sleeping apparently lol_

_Peeta Mellark [Sent 11:33am]: But they seem cool from their facebooks at least. One other guy, 3 girls, 5 in all so not too bad. They seem normal enough which is good. One of them is overly friendly. She already messaged everyone and wants to group video call!_

_Sounds awkward [Delivered 11:33am]_

_Peeta Mellark [Sent 11:34am]: Yeah, that's what I thought. At least when we meet at orientation there will be icebreakers to stop the awkwardness_

_You'll be fine :) [Delivered 11:34am]_

_Peeta Mellark [Sent 11:34am]: I hope so. God what if they all hate me?_

_Then they must be insane. They wont hate you [Delivered 11:35am]_

_I think it's impossible to hate you [Delivered 11:35am]_

_Peeta Mellark [Sent 11:36am]: I gotta go get ready. I'm working the register today. I'll text you later though_

...

_Madge Undersee [June 3, 2014, 4:26pm]: Hey! I just wanted to check in and see how you were doing. We haven't talked in a while and I know you probably just want to disappear, but if you want to talk about it just give me a call okay? Love you_

I tap the iMessage bubble and then swipe the keyboard away maybe five times as I try to figure out what to say.

_I'm doing okay [Delivered 5:14pm]_

Her response bubble pops up almost instantly.

_Madge Undersee [Sent 5:15pm]: Breaking up with someone sucks. I know that, trust me, but it'll get easier. And it's already been like 2 weeks since you've talked to him and that's the hardest part._

I grind my teeth. She's not going to like this.

_I talked to him this morning [Delivered 5:15pm]_

I barely tap out of messages before my screen dissolves into the incoming call screen.

_Madge Undersee  
__mobile_

I slide the little bar on the screen to answer and put the phone to my ear. "Hey."

"You talked to Peeta?"

"Yeah."

She lets out a breath. "Is this the first time you talked to him since graduation?" My non-answer is enough for her. She groans. "Katniss! I thought you guys decided not to talk to each other. Who initiated it?"

I think back to that day in the truck on the way back from the airport. "Uh, I did."

"When did this start?"

"After I landed at the airport."

She sighs on the other end of the line. "I get that it's really hard to let go, especially since you both still clearly have feelings for each other, but," she stops, "Kat, I don't know if you understand how much this is going to hurt in August. This is a quick fix–"

"It already hurts," I interrupt. "Madge, I already know that it's going to suck when he leaves, so why does it have to suck now too. We're just texting each other. That's it. I haven't Skyped or even called him since he dropped me off at the airport."

"Okay," she says. "I guess that isn't so bad. As long as you know this is all going to stop in August whether you want it to or not."

I nod my head and then realize she can't see me. "I know, but I think that will actually help. It'll be easier when I literally can't text him than it would be knowing he still has his phone now and I can't just because everyone's trying to protect me. It's going to hurt one way or the other – why not in August instead of June?"

"Yeah, okay. That makes sense, I guess. Just, if you need anything, please call me. I'll literally fly down there if you need me to."

I chuckle, knowing that she's being a hundred percent serious. Madge's family would think nothing of her asking for a plane ticket to visit me.

"I don't think that will be necessary, but thank you."

"I love you, okay? Keep me updated."

"Will do. Bye, Madge."

...

In high school, I never really had all that many good friends. I got along with a decent amount of people, but after the moms stopped organizing sleepovers midway through elementary school, I was never really the one invited. My mom seemed to sense this and after the first few times of her asking if I wanted to invite anyone over for a sleepover and me answering with a no, she made it her own personal goal to ensure that I had not only a good childhood but a way out of the town that had never really accepted me.

While Prim trotted off to sleepovers and the dance class at the community center, my mom and I would have our own book club or practice memorizing geography or spelling. She had never taken the SAT herself, but she took a class at the high school that her friend was teaching so that she could help me when I started to outlearn her. School had suddenly become the one constant thing in my life and even though my school district wasn't top tier, or anywhere close really, when paired with the extra work my mom put in it would be enough to at least get me into a school none of my classmates would ever dream of attending. When I aced my SAT with a nearly perfect score, my parents took a lot of pride in that – just as much as they did when Prim made the cheerleading squad or was voted to be a princess in the homecoming parade.

Panem City University was originally a reach school for me when I was applying. I didn't actually think I'd get in and, if I did, I knew I'd never be able to afford it. I figured that, if I got in, that would be enough. I'd let my parents keep the admittance letter and I'd accept wherever I received the most scholarship money. But then I did get in and I got a good amount of financial aid. I'd still have to take out loans, but my parents really wanted me to go.

When the letter comes that says I've been invited to apply to be a scholar of the college, my parents are unbelievably happy and incredibly proud.

So is Peeta.

_Peeta Mellark [July 14, 2014, 3:13pm]: That's amazing, smarty pants! What do you have to do?_

_Basically if I get it then it just extends the length of my thesis [Delivered 3:13pm]_

_And I get a special cord at graduation [Delivered 3:13pm]_

_So it's not actually that impressive [Delivered 3:14pm]_

_Peeta Mellark [Sent 3:14pm]: You're such a bad liar_

_Peeta Mellark [Sent 3:14pm]: That's a huge honor! Even I know that and my roommates were bozos ;)_

_You're so mean [Delivered 3:15pm]_

_Thresh wrote a thesis didn't he? [Delivered 3:15pm]_

_Peeta Mellark [Sent 3:16pm]: Okay yeah but it was just departmental. Scholar of the college, Kat? That's a big deal!_

_I just won't have a life next year [Delivered 3:16pm]_

_Peeta Mellark [Sent 3:17pm]: You're gonna kill it :)_

I smile and send him a heart back.

...

August first comes much quicker than I thought it would.

Peeta and I text well passed midnight. Everything is quiet and the only thing I hear is the soft taps of my thumbs flying across the keyboard on my screen. We're not really making a whole lot of sense in our conversations. It's mostly gibberish about how much we're going to miss each other. It's nearly three when my delusional body decides it's a good idea to get out of bed with my phone and go sit on the porch. I don't even wait for Peeta to reply to the last message I sent before I go into my contacts and press his number, watching as my phone screen dissolves into the outgoing call.

_Peeta Mellark  
__calling mobile..._

I try to keep my breaths even as I listen to the rings. I pray that he picks up and doesn't just ignore the call. I'm almost afraid that he's going to do just that when the familiar click of connection stops the constant rings and I hear him shuffling.

"Hold on," he whispers. "I'm upstairs and my parents are sleeping."

As I wait for him to come back, I hear him as he walks through his house, down the stairs, and through what sounds like a few sets of doors. Finally, there's another bit of shuffling and then he speaks.

"Sorry, my mom's a light sleeper, so I had to go outside," he says. "But what's up?"

"I just wanted to hear your voice one more time."

It sounds pathetic but I can't help but realize how true a statement it is.

"Where are you?" he asks.

"I'm on my porch."

"Can you see stars?"

"Yeah."

"We're looking at the same sky, just at different angles."

I feel my eyes well with tears. "You have been watching too many chick flicks," I say, but it doesn't come out as stern and sarcastic as I wanted it to. Instead, I can hear my own voice break and the waver in my words is so pronounced I'm sure he catches it.

"Katniss, listen to me," he says, surprising me by sounding extraordinarily calm. "You are going to have so much fun this year. It's gonna be a lot of work, but it's gonna rock, okay? Trust me. Senior year is the best one. You have all these events and parties and you'll have a bucket list – Annie seems like the kind of girl who would insist on one. So you're gonna go do all these cool things because its your last chance to – like, go to the clock tower at the top of Paylor Hall. Do that! That's awesome, the sunrise is gorgeous from the top of Paylor."

"Yeah?"

I can almost hear the smile in his voice. "Oh, yeah. Beautiful. Even Cato thought so. We went during Senior Week and Marvel cried – don't tell him I told you."

I chuckle.

"And besides, Miss Smarty Pants, you're going to be working on that stellar thesis and being a scholar of the college. You won't even have time for anything else. Even if I was still there, you would have so much other stuff to do that I'd be, like, fourth or fifth on your list."

A single tear slides out of the corner of my eye and down my cheek. "Not quite."

"I love you so much, okay? But I want you to take advantage of everything. If we're meant to be, we'll find each other when I'm home again."

I don't understand how he can be so smooth talking to me right now. I'm sitting here with tears in my eyes and he sounds like he's having a conversation about some mundane thing. So I ask him.

"How are you so calm?"

"You can't see me. I'm shaking." I hear him swallow. "I have a lot of faith, Kat. I don't think that God would be cruel enough to give me this connection to you and then take you away so I never see you again. I really don't, so that's why I'm okay. I've been praying every day about it and I'm going to keep praying until we're reunited."

"What if you meet someone else?"

"She won't hold a candle to you."

We talk for an hour, and then my phone starts to get really hot on my ear and Peeta starts to yawn. He has to be at the airport, boarding a flight to Miami for his orientation, in less than four hours, and I feel bad about keeping him up but selfishly glad I got to have this time with him.

"When you come home, we're gonna find each other," I tell him.

"I have no doubts about it." He yawns again. "Go get some sleep okay?"

"Okay."

"Bye, Katniss."

It always used to be _talk to you later_ or _see you soon_. There was never any sort of finality to the ends of our conversations like there are now.

"Bye, Peeta."

I keep the phone to my ear even after Peeta hangs up. It's a good half an hour before I move it, my arm too tired to keep it up. I fall backwards so I'm lying on the porch's wooden slats, my eyes so blurred by tears that when I look at the sky it just looks like swirls of white and black. I don't know how long I stay out here for, but it's long enough for my dad to wake up and get ready for his Friday morning shift in the mines. He opens the door and immediately grabs me in his arms, carrying me like a baby up the stairs as I cry into his shoulder. He goes into my bedroom and sets me down on the bed, where I notice my mother already is. They switch places and my mom immediately wraps her arms around me, rocking me back and forth and running her fingers through my hair. The walls are thin in our house, so eventually my sobbing wakes Prim and she jumps into bed with us just as my father has to leave so he isn't late. She curls into the side my mother isn't on and we all hold each other until I cry myself to asleep.

...

It goes straight to voicemail.

"Hey, you've reached Peeta Mellark. I can't make it to my phone right now but if you leave a message I'll get back to you as soon as I can. Thanks!"

I hang up and redial.

"Hey, you've reached Peeta Mellark. I can't make it to my phone right now but if you leave a message I'll get back to you as soon as I can. Thanks!"

It's not that I expected him to pick up. I knew that he was going to turn his phone off and leave it at home before his parents drove him to the airport. It was some sort of serendipity that his contract was up at the end of August so his parents didn't have to terminate it early due to the fact that he wouldn't use it again for two years. Until his parents end the contract, the phone will be off, on his dresser, and have every call going straight to his voicemail.

I sniff and press redial.

Sometimes, as the days go on, I just need to hear his voice. There are moments when I wake up out of a dead sleep, sit right up in bed, and can't remember what he sounds like. That's when I reach over to my bedside table and grab my phone, pressing Peeta's name in my recent calls and waiting as my phone dials the number. As always it goes straight to voicemail.

Until one day it doesn't.

"We're sorry; you have reached a number that has been disconnected or is no longer in service. If you feel you have reached this recording in error, please check the number and try your call again."

The automated voice on the other end of the line brings tears to my eyes and I end the call, dropping the phone on the couch and putting my face in my hands. He's really gone.

...

When I get back to school, the only thing that I am really grateful for is the fact that I don't live in a Townie. Living in one of those would have reminded me too much of Peeta. At least living in a four-man suite, in a different dorm, I'm not constantly surrounded by reminders of Peeta and where we met – because everywhere else on campus seems to be a trigger.

For example, my favorite study spot in the bottom of the library is ruined. I try going there one of the first nights to start working on my thesis and I just can't. The seat opposite me is empty for the first time in six months, and while my pre-Peeta self would have greatly enjoyed that, now it just makes me upset and unable to work.

Madge, Annie, and Johanna try to get me to go out the first weekend, but I can't. They stay in with me that Friday night, and Jo even runs to the small convenience store across the street to get us each a pint of Ben and Jerry's – the only two guys that we need, she says. But when I don't want to go to the football game the next day, they draw the line.

"Nope, absolutely not," Johanna says, yanking my arms and literally pulling me out of bed. "We would be bad friends if we let you mope. Time to get up. We're going to the game and we're going to the boys' tailgate, let's go."

"I really don't want to," I whine.

Madge is sitting on her bed, already dressed. Annie is in the doorway, her arms crossed. "Jo, if she doesn't want to go to the tailgate, you and Madge go ahead and we'll meet you at the game."

It at least gets Johanna to stop messing with me. She and Madge head out to tailgate in the Townies and I feel a little bad that Annie is staying behind with me, but I couldn't go and I think Annie knows that.

"Thanks," I mutter as I slip into my shirt.

She shakes her head. "It's fine, Katniss, really." She walks into the room and leaps onto Madge's bed as I finish getting ready. "Johanna meant well. We just don't like seeing you like this. It hurts us to see you hurt."

I let out a breath and lean over the bed, pressing my face into the comforter. At home, I had been doing pretty well that last week before break ended. Sure, I spent the couple before lying on the couch with Prim watching television. But it was an improvement from the first couple days. I barely moved from the couch and my mother even went to the store to buy an entire carton of ice cream for me and we almost never have ice cream in the house. But by the time I was boarding a plane to go back to school, I thought I was feeling much better and that I could handle anything.

Wrong.

I finish getting ready and then we take our time before leaving. We stop off at the dining hall too before going into the stadium. Annie has her phone out, texting Madge to figure out which section they ended up in. The student section stretches out from about the thirty or forty yard line around the end zone to the field goal post.

"They're in front of the dance team about halfway up."

We head up that way and before long we see Madge waving to us. She pushes down the bench a little so we can stand on the bleacher beside her and the rest of the row shuffles. Behind and next to her are some of the boys.

Madge, Annie, and I have been friends since the first weekend of freshman year. Madge and I were randomly assigned as roommates and Annie lived on our floor. It wasn't until mid- to late-October that we met Johanna. One of the girls we had been hanging out with at the time had gone to high school with Jo and pulled her into our large group that was heading to a football game because she had yet to find a group of girlfriends. Ultimately, our large group split ways as freshman year progressed, as happens, and Johanna fit well with us.

What Johanna brought with her were the Bellarmine boys. At the time there were like ten or twelve of them, all on the same floor of Bellarmine Hall, and Johanna had somehow worked her way into their friend group. Now there's really only six left from the original group that live together in a Townie and we're still decent friends with them. They're the boys we tend to go to sports events with and who we (or Annie, Madge, and Johanna) partied with for the most part until they all started to go abroad last year.

Most of them are standing with Madge now. Dalton Harris and Craig Mitchell are standing behind her while the twins, Castor and Pollux Chatham-Henson, stand beside her. All four of them are decked out in our school's colors.

"Hey!" Dalton says, reaching over to give Annie an awkward hug. Then he turns to me and does the same. I can smell the beer in his breath. "You missed our tailgate!"

"We'll come next time," Annie says.

He points and smiles, trying to wink but not really achieving it. "You better."

I turn to Madge, leaving Annie with Dalton and his clear intoxication. "Where's Jo?"

"She went to go grab free stuff from the concourse." She leans in a little closer to me. "You okay?"

I nod. "Yeah," I say. "You guys were right. I feel better being out here."

She wraps her arms around me and smiles. "I'm glad."

Looking out around the stands, I actually do feel really good. Peeta told me to take advantage of everything and I want to do that. I don't want to spend my senior year feeling bad about what happened. It hurts and I think it will always hurt a little bit, but I can't spend the next two years wishing Peeta were here because it's not going to happen and that is only going to make me miserable. I just have to be thankful for what I have and know that the future will bring him back.

Of course, it's harder to be that optimistic than it seems.

"I'm back, bitches!"

I roll my eyes and turn away from the game. Johanna is back, gold beads around her neck, a free towel swinging in her hand, and gold sunglasses with Panem City University printed on the side. She takes up the bleacher next to Dalton and passes me a set of beads.

"For you, brainless." Then she turns and shakes her head. "Shit. I lost 'em."

"They'll find their way back," Castor says.

"Yeah!" Dalton cheers. "I see them."

It's almost like out of a scene of a bad eighties movie. Just as the band starts to play the first down theme, the crowd seems to open to let the two remaining boys through. Thom takes up the place besides Johanna and nabs the bandana off her head, which she retaliates with a punch to the arm.

Gale stands next to him and smiles at me. "Hey, Catnip, long time no see."

When we first met, Gale Hawthorne and I bonded quickly over the fact that we were both from the South in a school dominated by people from New England, New York, and New Jersey. Slowly he became my closest friend in the group. I missed him when he went abroad last spring and I bite my lip when I realize that I didn't talk to him as much I told him I would. I got a little preoccupied.

"How was Paris?" I ask.

He grins. "Amazing," he says. "Let's get lunch tomorrow and we'll talk more."

I nod my head and turn back to the game. But I don't really care about this football game, so once our team is getting slaughtered, I sit down on the bleacher and pull out my phone to check my email and maybe play a game to two, trying to ignore Johanna's shouts down to the field. My school email has a few new messages and my breath catches a little when I see that I have a new email from Finnick. I click on it immediately.

_**Fwd: Peeta's blog**_

**Finnick Odair**  
to me

Hey Katniss,

Peeta's dad sent us the link for the blog that his program set up for them while they're in Ecuador. I thought you might like to have it.

Hope you're doing well. Tell Annie and the rest that I say hey.

-Finnick

_On Friday, August 29, 2014 9:56 PM, "Peter Mellark" wrote:_

Hello boys,

I hope this message finds all of you well. I know it must be weird for you all to not be preparing to move back to school for the year. My older sons found that to be an odd feeling when they left school and joined the 'real world.'

Peeta just messaged us and he wanted us to send you all his regards. He says he's having a great time so far. They landed in Ecuador on the 16th and spent a few days in Quito before traveling to Guayaquil. They each have their own separate blog that they're going to try updating as much as possible, but Peeta has said that their internet access is spotty and they're very busy in the community. He's aiming for once a week. His is on Tumblr and his username is thirdpetermichael.

If you're ever in the area, stop by the bakery and keep us updated on your lives. We wish you all well with your endeavors.

-Pete

I shouldn't. I know that I shouldn't. Finnick must realize how hard these last few weeks have been for me. But he wouldn't have forwarded the email to me if he thought it would hurt me anymore, right?

I click the hyperlink.

It pops up in a new window on my phone. The top cover photo for the blog is an airplane above the clouds and his icon picture is of himself – what looks to be the Heridas Santas taken picture. I may have stalked the website during that awful first week and noticed that they posted each volunteer's name and picture in a list of current volunteers. The title he's given to his blog is "This Being Human is a Guest House" and it makes me smile because I know that comes from one of his favorite Rumi poems. Under that, he has a little biographical paragraph: _For the next two years of my life, I will be living and working in Guayaquil, Ecuador, as a volunteer with Heridas Santas. Come take this journey with me!_

So I do.

He already has quite a few entries so I thumb all the way down to the bottom, where the entry is titled: Goodbye, New Jersey. He has a photograph he's taken of Newark, New Jersey, that he must have taken as they ascend into the air.

_**August 1, 2014**_

_It's been real. It's been fun. It's been real fun. But, NJ, I think it's time we see other people._

_Ever since I was a little kid, I dealt with stress by having a sense of humor. It was something that annoyed my parents to no end. When I tripped during my first communion, I told a joke to the priest. When I came in second in the state wrestling tournament, I shrugged it off with another joke. I can even hear my mother now - __can't you ever be serious?!__(Sorry, Mom!) _

_Using this sense of humor is how I got through a lot of these last few weeks, where it seemed like everyone I saw was saying things like, 'if I don't see you, have a great time' or 'I'm sure I'll see you before you go, but if I don't…'_

_Some goodbyes were harder (much harder) than others. Graduation day went by in a blur as I said goodbye to all of my roommates in some sort of sleepless haze at 5:30am as we were all trying to nap for an hour or two before getting up for the ceremony. I called each and every one of them that night after everything hit me and I spent numerous hours on the phone with them again this past week. Saying goodbye to Katniss was probably the worst thing I've ever had to do. Having to press end on my last phone call with her and leaving my family at Newark are both right up there in I-don't-want-to-talk-about-it territory._

_I'll admit that I shed tears, a lot of tears, this week and wondered more than once whether I was doing the right thing. Leaving the United States for two years is going to be life-changing and I just have to know that God is sending me on this journey for a reason. When I applied to this program, I felt called in a way I didn't when I applied to other, often shorter duration, programs. There is a reason for this - I just have to be ready to see it._

_So it's been real, guys, but now it really is time for me to see other people ;)_

I scroll back up to get to the next entry.

**The Final Countdown**

_**August 13, 2014**_

_In two days, our orientation will end and all the volunteers that I've come to know and love will be spread out across Central and South America. It's hard to know that I'm going to have to once again say goodbye to some pretty amazing people, but at least this time I get to take a good core group with me. _

_This core group is the community that I will live with in Ecuador for the next two years. There will be ten of us in all, five in each of the Heridas houses. My community consists of Jack Messalla, or Messer as we've come to know him, and the lovely ladies: Delly, Eni, and Atala. It's a pretty solid crew, if I do say so myself. Our house is located just north of Guayaquil. _

_Two days. Let's do this._

Peeta told me before he left a little about what his community would be like. He knew who he was living with and talked to them a few times, but that was basically it. It's good to know that he's getting along good with them. Then again, I never doubted that Peeta would ever not get along with anyone. He's one of those kinds of people that just clicks with everyone he meets. I continue on my read through his posts.

**Away We Go**

_**August 15, 2014**_

_It's finally time. _

_All fifteen of us are getting ready to go to Miami International to board a flight to Quito. As the only one completely ready to head out, I'm taking these few last moments to post._

_I've taken my last hot shower and slept in air conditioning for the final time. I've packed all the documentation that I'll need to get through customs and live in Ecuador for the next two years. As utterly terrifying as it is, I'm so glad that it's time._

_Once we arrive in Quito, we'll have a chance to explore and just be tourists for a few days before we board a bus and travel upwards of nine hours to Guayaquil, when we'll finally meet the communities that we'll be living and serving in. I can't wait to finally step down and be in-country, go through customs and be able to say 'I'm here!'_

_Once I'm in Ecuador, I'm not sure how often I'll be able to blog, but I'll try my hardest to keep all of you updated._

_Adios, USA!_

As I scroll back up to the next post, I notice this one has a few pictures, so I read through the entry and then stop to look at the pictures.

**We Make Plans and God Laughs**

_**August 17, 2014**_

_So, guys, I'm going to be lazy. Messer made a pretty good blog post about our time in Quito, so I'm just going to copy-and-paste some of it with his permission here. _

_"Hola! We have touched down in Quito, Ecuador. How exciting is that? It took us a while to get through customs and after that all we really wanted to do was sleep! We ate dinner at a small local place before calling it a night. _

_Since we only have a few days in Quito before going to Guayaquil, we wanted to pack as much in as we can. We had breakfast and then tried to navigate the public transportation system. Yikes, do you think people could tell we were stupid American tourists?_

_No, well, our agenda might then. We headed over to the equator because obviously that is the first order of business for stupid American tourists like us. We had to get it out of our system before we try to assimilate into life in Ecuador. Each of us got a picture with our feet on each side of the line. There is a whole little exhibit at the equator, called La Mitad del Mundo. We took a tour of the museum, a very tall monument that marks the line dividing the northern and southern hemispheres, and got to look out over Quito from the top. It was quite the scenic view and a great way to start our time here! _

_We also wanted to see Old Town Quito and man was that worth it. A lot of walking, but definitely a beautiful part of the city. The old architecture was to die for - so stunning! We took so many pictures I haven't even gotten a chance to really look at them all!_

_Tomorrow we will drive to Guayaquil and there we will meet the volunteers whose positions we will be taking. They'll stay with us (or we'll stay with them really) until they leave to head back to the States on Friday. Then we're on our own!"_

_So that's what we've been up to and I planned to write a great synopsis of it, but you know the saying: we make plans..._

In Messer's part, there are a bunch of pictures. There's a picture of a large group of maybe nine or ten people at a large monument. The caption mentions that they're at the equator. There's another picture with just four of them, of Peeta and the girls with their feet on either side of the equator line. Under the picture, Messer wrote: "Our resident ladies man and his chicas ;)"

With my fingers, I zoom in so I can see the picture better. It's been months since I've seen Peeta because I was good and avoided his Facebook during our texting only gradual breakup. He's front and center of the group, the girls all poking out from behind him. He's doing his typical goofy stance that he does for pictures when he isn't being serious – his arms bent so his hands are near his chest, giving two thumbs up, and his elbows are out looking like wings. His mouth is open, his pale eyebrows are raised up into his hairline, and his eyes are wide. There's a burgeoning sunburn covering his cheeks and nose. He looks good. He looks really good.

After putting the screen back to normal, I scroll down quickly to see more pictures. There are a few of them at what look to be monuments and churches, and traditional looking South American architecture.

I scroll up to the last entry. This also has a few pictures. It starts with a picture of ten kids in t-shirts and shorts. Peeta is standing off to the side, his arms around a tall dark-haired guy with glasses and an average-looking blonde girl with a big smile and red sunburn on her seemingly pasty skin. I recognize the two girls kneeling in front of them from the picture at the equator. Those four must be Peeta's actual housemates.

**Adios Quito, Hola Guayaquil**

_**August 20, 2014**_

_On Monday we woke up early and packed up our belongings before heading to the bus terminal. We met up with the entire program to travel from Quito to Guayaquil after having spent most of our time in our housing groups. It was great to see the others again and get to know our greater community while we waited for the bus to board. Once we get to Guayaquil, we'll be both a part of our house community and the larger community of volunteers, so getting to spend some time with them was great. We had dinner the night before for the first time since we landed in Quito and knew we'd get some bonding time on the trip._

After the first paragraph, he inserted a few pictures of them on the bus. There's one where the other guy and two of the girls are looking out a window. Then there's a selfie of Peeta and the pasty blonde girl from the first group picture captioned: 'five hours in – are we crazy yet?'

_The bus ride from Quito to Guayaquil is a long one! 9 hours! But it definitely allowed for a lot of bonding time and a good chance for us to practice our Spanish with native speakers. I was sitting near the front with Delly and the two of us were right behind a young family. We had fun playing games with their daughter, who was 22-months-old and such a ham. _

_The scenery is absolutely stunning. Ecuador is such a beautiful country. I often found myself staring out the window in amazement. How could I actually be here in this place? Sometimes I think that I'm going to wake up and be back at home in New Jersey and this whole thing is just a big dream._

_When we arrived in Guayaquil, our program coordinators, Donna and Jose, were there to meet us. There are two separate volunteer houses in Guayaquil and they took us in large vans. The houses are all in the same neighborhood, just a few streets away from each other, which is really nice. We were dropped off at our house and got a good chance to look around before Donna and Jose came back over to grab us. We were having dinner together with all the volunteers as a welcome. We went to a restaurant in the neighborhood and were given a very warm greeting by the current volunteers, who were already there. _

_Meeting and being able to hang out with the current volunteers has been such a great experience. They've been able to tell us so much about what it's like as well has teach us what we need to know. There's so much we need to learn before we start work - from different cultural customs to how to cook for five people on ten dollars a day._

_These next few days are going to be busy as we try to learn as much as we can from the volunteers before they head home so the next time you hear from me will probably be after I start working. _

_Chao!_

He hasn't updated since. But just reading through those few entries makes me feel closer to Peeta than I've felt in a while. Even just looking at his little face icon and the few pictures that he's posted makes my heart swell in a way that almost embarrasses me.

"Katniss? You okay?"

I look up to see both Annie and Madge looking down at me. They both look concerned so I quickly press the home button and my screen leaves Peeta's blog, hiding it behind the little square apps. Annie and Madge don't need to know what I just did. They wouldn't like it.

"Yeah, I'm just bored."

Madge nods her head and hops off the bleacher. "Me too. Wanna head out? We can get ice cream before all the stadium lets everyone out and it gets mobbed."

I nod in agreement and we leave Johanna with the boys, all of them still screaming with the rest of the crowd as the refs make calls that aren't in our favor but are actually probably right. Madge, Annie, and I stop at the little ice cream shop just off campus before going back up to our dorm. Madge and Annie do most of the talking while we're there and they don't try to make me talk too often, which I'm thankful for because my head is still on Peeta. I know that it's not good but I just can't stop thinking about it.

When we're back in the dorm, I open up the page on my laptop. His blog has links on the side to his other housemates' blogs. I bookmark the page so it's easy to get to in my internet window and then shut my laptop before Annie or Madge can see and tell me that this isn't a good idea. Finnick wouldn't have given me the link if he thought following it would be a bad thing for me.

...

_Gale Hawthorne [sent 12:43pm]: Hey sorry I just got up. Do you still wanna get lunch?_

_Sure. Meet you in like 15 minutes? [Delivered 12:43pm]_

_Gale Hawthorne [Sent 12:44pm]: Yep sounds good_

I exit out of messages and look up at the doors hoping that Gale will walk in any minute. I sit down on the steps that lead to the upper level of the dining hall and fiddle with my phone again. I click the Tumblr app that I downloaded last night in some sleepless haze when I thought it would be a good idea to make an account and actually follow Peeta's blog, as well as the other four blogs. Those are the only five I'm following right now so the posts are just the ones I read yesterday. None of them have updated.

"Hey!"

I look up and click out of the app. Gale and I walk in and grab our food. Because it's a weekend, the dining hall is still serving breakfast so most of the students are going for the greasy home fries and breakfast sandwiches in hopes of curing their hangovers. Gale goes straight to the omelet line, so I tell him I'm going to go get a table once I have my food. A lot of the tables are full but I finally manage to get a booth near the window. I text him the location and spend the next few minutes looking out the window at the Townies.

"That took forever," Gale says when he slides in across from me.

I shake my head. "It's okay. It wasn't that long." I lean forward. "So, tell me about Paris."

Gale spent the spring semester in France and I saw a few pictures that came up on my newsfeed on Facebook. We told each other that we'd Skype, but never did. Just a few messages, bad time zone separated conversations, and we basically lost touch. I feel kind of bad about it, but it's in the past. I can't change it now. Instead, I get the whole trip in a small synopsis – the time effective way, I guess.

He smiles as he finishes. "It was great. I really loved it, but in a way I'm glad to be back, you know?" he says. "You miss a lot here when you're gone." Then he takes a forkful of his food and raises his eyebrows in my direction. "Like the fact that you had a boyfriend."

"What?" I sputter. "How did you know?"

He rolls his eyes. "You do realize your Facebook is public, right?" he jokes. "Any time I went to message you I saw 'in a relationship with' and, plus, you have never once had a profile picture with a guy before that wasn't your dad. Not even me. So fess up."

I hate social media.

"There's not much to tell," I say. "He was a senior. He graduated. We broke up. The end."

Just from the look on his face I can tell he notices the way that I tense up and the words sound like they're being pried out of my mouth. But luckily he doesn't try to pull anymore out of me. He just nods, takes another bite, and then sets his fork down.

"Well, Madge might have told me last night that you also turned into quite the little partier," he says, grinning. "Katniss Everdeen, what happened to you while I was gone? Underage drinking. Partying. I even hear you used a fake id to get into a bar–"

"That never happened."

He shakes his head. "Of course, I figured Jo was exaggerating," he says. "But the rest of it is true?" When I don't answer, he smirks. "You have zero excuses now on why you can't come to our parties. You're legal. You drink. You have to come next weekend. Please?"

"I have a thesis."

"So do I," he says. Of course he does. Gale is writing his thesis on political patterns or something. He mentioned that in one of the messages we exchanged while he was abroad. It's not like mine, but he's in the Honors program so it's an even bigger deal. He has to write one to graduate, whereas mine is just an invitation because of my GPA.

"Fine," I say. "I'll come once, but just because it's you. If Dalton spills any beer on me I'm out."

He laughs. "I'll keep you away from him."

...

As it would happen, our football team wins the next weekend against Clemson, which may be the biggest fluke of the year. Every news channel is in complete shock and the story even takes a place on the Yahoo homepage, taking precedent over its array of stories focusing on celebrity gossip and scandal. Campus, of course, goes crazy and the Townies just never quit. The music is so loud I can hear it from our dorm across campus. They take a little break around dinner time and then around ten or so they're back at it.

I am so not ready for this.

Getting ready doesn't take me as long as it does for Madge, Annie, and Johanna. The three of them spend at least an hour on their outfits alone, changing between three and ten times before they finally like what they're wearing. I just threw on a shirt, a pair of jeans, and flip flops that I don't care enough about – that way if I end up getting beer spilled on them it's not a big deal. Instead, I spend my time trying to relax and mentally prepare myself for being in a sweaty hotbox.

When Madge told Gale that I became 'quite the little partier' last year, she conveniently forgot to tell him that it was mostly because I had Peeta with me and we never stayed the whole time. If we were drunk we went upstairs to his room and if we were relatively sober we went back to mine to watch a movie in the quiet. Crowded Townies, even with Peeta, still sort of made me anxious and I'm not looking forward to this. I figure I can go for a little bit and then pull the 'I have get up early to go to the library and work on my thesis chapter' excuse when I want to leave.

My newsfeed on Facebook isn't too interesting. A few people I went to high school with always post pictures of their babies. Another girl just got engaged. Prim is overly active and posted thirty-five new pictures to her Mobile Uploads album. I roll my eyes at the majority of them. Most are selfies she took at the usual bonfires that happen on the weekends. I never went to them, but Prim is constantly posting pictures. I love Prim to death, but we can't be more different. The majority of my 'friends' from college are posting about the win, even the ones who don't care about football in the slightest.

Suddenly Peeta's name pops up on my screen.

My stomach tenses and my throat tightens for a minute. I quickly look over to see if he's online, but he's not. He never is. He was just tagged in a photo.

_Peeta Mellark was tagged in Delly Cartwright's cover picture. _

I click on it and the picture gets larger on my screen. Peeta and his pasty blonde housemate are standing in front of a sign for Escuela Santa Narcisa de Jesus. I focus on Peeta, who is standing to the left of the sign. He's been there for a while now and the sun has clearly caught up to him, but not in a terrible way. His face is a little red on his cheeks, but the rest of him looks like he's developing at least something of a tan.

I let out a breath. I miss him.

"Katniss, do you want to take a shot with us?" Johanna says as she walks into the kitchen.

I shake my head, my eyes still glued to the screen and my teeth clenching. It's irrational, but I'm jealous of his housemates. I follow their blogs as well as Peeta's because they all tend to mention each other and everyone has mentioned great things about Peeta. It's not like I doubted Peeta's ability to charm all of his housemates and I didn't want him to not make any friends, but...I miss him and I wish I could be the one talking about how Peeta has a stray dog that follows him everywhere or how all the kids adore him.

The couch shifts and I look next to me out of the corner of my eye. Johanna grabs my laptop and eyes the screen for a few seconds before logging me out.

"Hey!"

She shuts my laptop and puts it on the table we have in front of the couch. "Stop stalking him."

"I'm not stalking him."

Johanna gives me a dubious look. "Honestly, you just need a one-night stand," she says. "You can get Peeta out of your head and you can get laid. It's a win-win."

"I can't do that!" I shake my head and cross my arms, turning away from her. "I've only slept with Peeta."

She snorts. "Exactly. And that has to change sometime unless you plan on being celibate for the rest of your life."

"Not the rest of my life," I mumble. But it's useless. She is much more comfortable with the idea of meeting a guy at a party and having sex with him than I am. Sex is something that I've only shared with Peeta and that connection is still very important to me.

This time last year I wouldn't even be thinking like this. I'd be watching the three of them get ready, throwing in a movie when they left, and spending a good night in. But I suppose a lot can change in a year.

"Do you want to take a shot with us?" Johanna asks, her voice less abrasive.

Before I can answer, Madge's voice floods through the dorm. "Jo! Have you poured the shots yet?"

"Yeah! How long does it take to do your damn hair?"

Madge comes skipping down the hallway, stopping to look in the full length mirror we have hanging on one of the closet doors. She yanks on one of the curls she's done and groans.

"I hate my hair!" she whines. "I used almost an entire can of hairspray and it's still falling out!"

Annie follows and laughs, tugging a curl as she walks by her. "You'll just end up putting it up when you get hot anyway," she says. She turns to me. "Are you taking shots with us?"

"Yes, she is," Johanna says. "Now come on. I told Thom we'd be there in ten minutes and we're still sober."

"They should know by now that we're always late," Annie says as we walk into the kitchen. "We can just blame Madge."

"Wait for me!" Madge shouts, still in front of the mirror. She's putting her hair into some half-up, half-down style.

Jo rolls her eyes. "Well then hurry up, Miss Priss, or you're starting with round two."

Eventually we leave. I trudge a few steps behind the three of them, my head feeling fairly light but my mind spinning from earlier. I don't want a one-night stand. I know that technically I'm no longer in a committed relationship with Peeta, but I still feel committed to him and I have no desire to sleep with someone else. To be honest, I think the best way for me to get over the fact that I won't see Peeta for two years isn't by hooking up with some random dude but by throwing myself into my thesis and schoolwork.

Which I will be doing. Starting tomorrow.

The party is everything I remember them being – loud, hot, and crowded. One section of the Townie is full of people standing and dancing with solo cups or cans of beer. The kitchen has a table set up with beer pong. I knew already that Gale and his roommates had a bar that they brought with them. Thom's older brother had a Townie two years ago and they built one for their parties, which they ultimately passed down to Thom and his roommates. Pollux is standing behind it, a laptop plugged into a set of massive speakers. I pull my phone out of my pocket to check the time, trying to figure out how soon is too soon to make my getaway.

"Bored already?"

I look up to find Gale standing over me. He's holding a beer and takes a sip before pushing it in my direction. I shake my head. Peeta couldn't even get me to drink beer. I stick my phone back in my pocket and when I look back up I see that Gale hasn't moved. He's still standing over me, looking down with a weird look on his face.

"Why are you staring at me like that?"

He shrugs and leans down so he doesn't have to yell for me to hear him. "I guess I'm just shocked that you're here."

"I told you I'd come."

Again he shrugs and takes a long drink from his beer. "You did." He nods to the kitchen. "Wanna play?"

"I'll watch."

Johanna is already over there, sandwiched between Dalton and Castor. They finish up that game and Gale hops in. Madge takes the spot right next to him and Annie comes to stand beside me. We watch for a few rounds. I get bored though and pull out my phone, clicking the Tumblr app just to see. Peeta hasn't updated again. I read through his last post.

"Do you want a drink?" Annie asks. I look up from the selfie Peeta posted a few weeks ago while on the bus and nod my head. Maybe it will help me relax.

She disappears and I put my phone back in my pocket, watching as Madge completely dive bombs in this game. It takes her forever to flip her cup.

I look around at everyone here, wondering how they can all be having fun. Am I abnormal for feeling this way? Given just the statistical odds, there's bound to be a person or two in this room who just broke things off with someone, and yet I'm the only outwardly miserable. How do they do it? Do they just put it behind them and have fun or do they still feel broken and bruised but put on a smile that fools even themselves? Whatever they're doing, I want to try it.

"Here."

I grab the cup from Annie and take a sip. I enjoy Annie's mixed drinks – they never taste like alcohol. Jo and Madge tend to put three parts vodka to each part juice, but Annie is much more conscious about taste. I sip on it and pull out my phone again once Annie gets asked to dance. I open the Facebook app and go to Peeta's page. His profile picture is of him and Finnick on graduation day, a selfie they took as they listened to the commencement speaker, he told me. Peeta's hood was bright blue, signifying his degree from the school of education, and it just made his eyes that much brighter even though I can't see them in the picture. They both have sunglasses on because it was so sunny that day. I flip through the rest of his profile pictures. I'm in the next three – one kissing his cheek, one of us just being goofy, and one out in the city that we took while we were out on a date.

The fact that I'm tipsy doesn't help me while I look through the pictures. It just makes me miss him more and I feel my eyes welling with tears. I need to get out of here.

I look up to try and find the others. Annie is long gone, lost in the mass of people somewhere in the Townie. Flip Cup has turned into Slap Cup and Madge may be worse at this game than she is at the other, but at least Dalton has taken to drinking for her. Gale is looking at me from his place at the table. He mouths, "you okay?" and when I shake my head he leaves his spot, walking behind Madge and Dalton to get to me.

He says something but I can't hear him over the cheers that erupt from the table when Madge finally manages to pass her cup and Ping-Pong ball to someone else. Gale pulls out his phone and his thumb flies over the screen, clearly sending some sort of text message, and then he guides up the stairs to his and Thom's room, shutting the door to somewhat block the music.

"What happened?" he asks, guiding me to his bed so I can jump up and he can follow.

My head is spinning. I miss Peeta.

I must say this aloud because his arms tighten around me for a moment and he sighs. "I know," he says. "It sucks."

Time doesn't exist. I'm not entirely sure how long I'm crying on him, but it must be a while. It's only when Gale shifts to get into a more comfortable position and I lift my head that I realize I've left wet marks on his shirt. His eyes look almost as pained as mine feel and he presses his lips to my forehead.

"It'll get easier, Catnip," he says. His voice is so calculated that it sounds as though he's talking from experience. "I promise."

There's a quick knock on the door and Annie sticks her head in. She sighs and walks over to us, taking my hands in hers. "Oh, sweetie," she says. She turns to Gale. "Thanks for texting me. We'd have been looking all over for her."

"Don't worry about it."

Annie turns to me and smiles. "Hey, honey, do you want to come with me? Madge and Jo are waiting for us downstairs and we're gonna go back home now. Okay?"

Under other circumstances, I might have told Annie that I'm not drunk enough for her preschool teacher voice. But I'm too exhausted for that right now, so I just nod and let her lead me.

...

As to avoid another situation like what happened at Gale's, I throw myself into my work. I manage to get the first chapter of my thesis done a week before the deadline, much to the shock of Dr. Heavensbee, my advisor, and spend the majority of my free time in the library. My roommates don't push me to go out with them when I decline. I think they're scared to get me drunk again, fearing that I'll turn into an emotional nightmare at some bar. But I'm fine not going with them. It brings me back to my pre-Peeta days, when I would have my alone time on the weekends – just me and Madge's excessive collection of DVDs. It's a good thing.

I do still check to see if Peeta has updated. He finally does at the end of September, for the first time since August. It opens with a gif of Desi Arnez – _Lucy, you got some splainin' to do!_

_**September 27, 2014**_

_So apparently I'm a pretty terrible blogger._

_It's been a month since I've last posted anything and I'm sorry for not updating more. I don't really have any excuses, just some stories to show you what I've been doing instead._

_Many of you knew that I was going to be teaching while I was here. I've had my class for almost a month now and I now want to take this time to apologize to my sixth grade teacher. Kidding – these kids are awesome. It's overwhelming, knowing that I'm responsible for these little brains, but in the best possible way. It has truly been amazing and I am so excited be here, doing this._

_My class at Escuela Santa Narcisa de Jesus has twelve boys and fourteen girls who live in one of the poorest neighborhoods in the area. Without this school, run by a fabulous group of nuns, I really worry about where these kids would be. While they often make me want to pull my hair out, they're truly some of the most inspirational people I've met here. I can't even put into words how much joy it gives me to go into work each and every day. They're thirteen-year-olds so by nature they're little shits, but I couldn't ask for a better group._

_The only problem is, once school ends, they tend to head out into the streets. This isn't safe. The neighborhood they live in is not where kids need to be. So, I asked the nuns if it would be okay if I, and a few of my other volunteers, could put together some sort of after school program. The money just isn't there to do this through the school, but as volunteers we can do this for a much more minimal cost. All we asked for were a few soccer balls. Our tournament started last week and it's a huge success so far. By the time I finish with them at the end of the day, I'm completely beat! _

_This last month has literally flown by and I'm already dreading saying goodbye to these kids. I now understand why it's a two-year commitment to do this program – it gives them a little more stability, rather than a teacher turnover every year. There's a teacher here who was a Heridas volunteer in 2008, and six years later she's still here. It's been amazing to talk to her and see how much this experience has shaped her. Rosa, her real name is Rosemary but the kids call her Rosa, is a great resource for us and she's actually going to take a group of us on a long weekend trip that's coming up to a community that she travels to every few weeks._

_So yeah, I've been super busy at the school and with the kids that my own housemates complain that they never see me! But I'll try to update more. Thank you to everyone who sent me messages as well! I'll try to get to those too, but know that I've read them all. Your encouragements and well wishes keep me going._

I've debated sending him a message multiple times, but I don't want him to feel like he has to deal with me missing him when he's thousands of miles away. It'll just make him feel bad that I'm hurting so much and, to be honest, it's my own fault. I shouldn't have texted him at the airport in May.

Hindsight's twenty-twenty.

I don't regret it though.

He posted that update a few weeks ago. The cool fall weather has now made its way to campus and foliage is at its peak. Sometimes I sit on one of the benches outside the science building between my classes, admiring the way the leaves change color. The deep reds and vibrant oranges remind me of Peeta. These are some of his favorite colors and I'm not sure if leaves change in Ecuador, but if they don't I imagine that he must be missing this a lot. He once told me that of all the seasons he liked autumn the best.

I have classes on Monday, Wednesday, and Friday, while on Tuesdays and Thursdays I'm working with Dr. Heavensbee in the lab. With exam workloads beginning, even my weekends become extraordinarily busy and this helps me. I don't think I'll ever truly forget about Peeta, but it's easy to let him slip from my mind when I'm isolating proteins in the lab or studying for an exam. It's everywhere else that reminds me of him. It has become a routine for me to check his blog every time I open an internet browser, even if I've already checked multiple times that day. I know he's busy and his updates are few and far between, but I don't want to miss any. Sometimes I get really desperate and I look at the blogs of his housemates to see if they've mentioned him. Sometimes they do – certain people are more thorough and include more than others.

Delly, the pasty blonde girl who I think will be sunburned for the next two years, mentions him a lot.

Granted, she mentions everyone a lot, so I try to quell the bubbling in my stomach every time she writes about him. But she's one of those bloggers who will write down in minute detail what she had for lunch on Tuesday and exactly what happened at 2:43pm on Wednesday – it must take her hours each week to update her blog and sometimes I like to blame her for why Peeta doesn't update because she must hog their only computer. I know that's irrational. I know Peeta and I know he's much more likely to overextend his time at the school than he is to write on a blog, but sometimes it makes me feel better to have someone to blame.

It's around this time that Madge and Annie start to drop little hints about my hermit behavior. I just shake them off when they casually bring up that I never go anywhere with them and tell them that I just don't want to go out to bars or drink because I have to be on my A game. They accept it, but I see them watching me.

Gale asks me to come to another one of his parties and tells me that it'll be more fun this time around. I don't give him an answer.

Halloween, the most sacred of college holidays, falls on a Friday and it has even the most outwardly non-religious praising God for the miracle. When Madge begins to mention themed outfits, I know that I won't be able to get out of it indefinitely. I will at the very least have to go out with them once during the weekend. Every year, Madge brings her old dance costumes to school after the Columbus Day weekend. Because of this we have no shortage of things to wear, but Madge is dead set on all of us coordinating to Gale's Townie's costume party that Saturday. After a week of bickering back and forth, we end up wrapped in duct tape as the four seasons. I choose to be autumn and my dress is made from yellow and brown duct tape, with fake changing leaves stuck on it in what Madge insists is a cute edging. Johanna is wrapped in white tape with fake snowflakes stuck to her while Madge and Annie are both in varying shades of blue – Madge in sky blue with flowers for spring and Annie with dark blue and a sun detail and palm tree created out of construction paper and taped on with clear packing tape for summer. It is the most uncomfortable thing that I've ever worn in my entire life, but I do it to appease Madge.

I decide that getting very drunk may make it that much more tolerable.

Since the disaster at Gale's back in September, I haven't had anything to drink so I know I should take it easy. But when I still don't feel anything after four shots, I do two more and then hold the water bottle we have on our way across campus. Of course, the clear plastic blatantly shows that what's inside is anything but water.

I trip on the step in front of the Townie.

It's amazing how so many people can fit into one of these buildings. The music blares and within a few seconds of walking in I lose Madge, Annie, and Johanna. I'm surrounded by sweaty people. I walk to the wall and lean against it. They'll find me.

The music is so loud it rocks the entire house. I can feel it through the wall.

A boy stops in front of me. I'm sitting on the couch.

I have another drink in my hand.

"Hey!"

He says his name too but I miss it.

"Katniss."

He says some things but I'm not really paying attention. I can't really follow what he's saying. It's too loud. He's talking too quietly. I nod along.

In the darkness I can't really tell what he looks like.

"Do you want to dance?"

I try to get my head to stop spinning for a moment and really focus on him. He's blond, but he doesn't look like Peeta. He's tall and gangly. I can hear Johanna in my head. _Go for it, brainless._

"I have a boyfriend."

"Is he here?"

Peeta is in Ecuador. He's probably sleeping now. I shake my head.

"It's okay then," the guy says. "He won't know."

He won't know. Peeta doesn't know anything about what I'm doing. He just has to hold onto the hope that I'll be here when he gets back. I wait for him.

I shake my head. I feel a hand on my arm. I get yanked in another direction. Madge is leading me through the house. "Don't get involved with him," she says. "He's in my class. He's a dick."

I stick close to Madge. She won't let go of my hand.

...

My head is pounding when I wake up. I roll over and look at my clock. It's already early afternoon. Madge is out of bed already and I can hear them talking in the common room. I get out of bed and grab some clothes. The duct tape dress from last night is on the floor, a shell of me with a cut up the back – most likely so I could get out of it. Ugh. I need to take a shower. I feel disgusting. So I take my towel and open the door, heading across the hall to the bathroom, only to stop when I hear my name.

"Yeah, Big Dick Rick was talking to her last night. That's why we left early. She was really drunk, I don't know if she'll even remember all the stuff she said when we got back. She might have blacked out."

"I can see why she'd be jealous," Annie says.

Jealous? What am I jealous of?

"I wish she'd just get over him," Johanna says. "She's going to spend her senior year depressed and he's not worth it. She'll end up regretting it."

I think I have an idea of what they're talking about and I don't really want to hear anymore of it, so I walk into the bathroom. I toss my towel on the ground and look in the mirror. I am a mess. My eyes are bloodshot. I still have the makeup I wore last night on.

I shut the door and turn on the water, letting everything wash away. I stay under the spray until my fingers have turned into prunes and then I make my way into the common room. It seems that in the time I've been in the shower, they've moved onto a different story from last night that doesn't have to do with me. I collapse into Madge's butterfly chair and listen to Johanna finish off her story about Dalton's strip tease on top of the beer pong table. It seems like everyone got really drunk last night.

"How are you feeling?" Annie asks.

"Hungover."

Johanna chuckles once. "Welcome to the club, brainless."

Madge stretches to put her legs over the footstool we keep in the common room. "Did you text Gale yet?"

"Gale?"

She nods. "He told you before he left to text him when you woke up," she says. I must give her a look of total confusion because she smiles. "You don't remember that he was here?"

I shake my head.

Johanna claps. "Oh, this is great!"

She's laughing now so hard that she has tears in her eyes. Annie glares at her.

Madge turns back to me. "Well, you didn't really want to leave last night, but this jerk Rick was, like, all over you so Gale sort of tricked you into leaving. But we were halfway back when you decided you wanted to take a nap in the Townie parking lot, so I called Gale and he tried to get you to stand up, but you weren't having any of it, so he carried you back," she says. "Luckily he came when he did because if the cops found us you would have been screwed."

I wince. "I was that bad?"

"Oh, no," Johanna says. "You were worse."

"How could it be worse?"

Madge frowns. "Well," she says, drawing it out. "You were kicking and screaming most of the way back. You got Gale pretty good in the nose and you felt so bad about it that you started crying. So he sat with you on the couch while I made you some food and you told him about Peeta. We made sure you ate, he left when Annie and Johanna came back, then after we cut you out of your dress, you puked and fell asleep. It's why our trash can is near your bed and not the door like usual."

I vaguely remember Gale now, but not really.

"Katniss, I know now isn't when you want to be talking about anything. You probably want to take a nap," Annie says. "But, if you want to talk about Peeta, we're here for you, okay? We can help you, but you have to let us."

All three of them nod in agreement and I feel like I'm in some sort of intervention. I nod and stand up. "I know," I say. "But right now I'm going to get a glass of water and go back to bed."

"Sure," Annie says. "We're going to the dining hall in a minute. Do you want anything?"

Just the idea of food makes me want to vomit. I shake my head and then turn back, grabbing a glass of water and going back to my room. Once I'm in the darkness, my eyes shut and I press my palms to my temples. I wonder what I said about Peeta that made them so concerned.

I'm thinking about Peeta playing with a group of his kids when I finally fall to sleep.

...

_How do you survive when your entire world is ripped out from under you? I keep thinking about a magician's trick, the one where the man pulls the cloth off the table in one swift motion and the plates chime for a moment but none of them fall. How do they stay standing? It's a question I find myself asking over and over again._

I look up from the page I'm reading and hand it back to Madge. "Yeah, I like that paragraph better than the one you had before too."

"Good," she says. "Lets hope my professor likes it."

"You still haven't finished that story?" Johanna yells from the kitchen. "You've been working on it forever!"

"It's half my grade!" Madge shouts back.

I roll my eyes and grab my laptop, tuning out their bickering. Madge is working on her fiction portfolio for her writing class. Half of the portfolio is poetry, which she completed midway through October. Now she's working on her fiction, which is supposed to be ten pages but her professor told her that the more she wrote the more she'd have to choose from when it came time to pass in ten pages of it. I think she has about thirty pages so far and she's been writing nonstop. Annie and I have become her proofreaders. Johanna stopped once Madge hit page eleven, not understanding why she's doing more.

I go to Peeta's blog quickly and see if he's written anything. I figure that he hasn't and I'm correct. He updated last weekend, telling everyone that he and a few of the other volunteers might go up to one of the mountain communities for the weekend sometime. Rosa, one of the former volunteers who now works at the school full time, is supposed to take them. I click on a few of the other blogs to see if they have any more information that I can piece together to see if they're actually going up, but Messer's blog says that the school he works for with Enobaria and Atala, the high school connected to the elementary/middle school that Peeta and Delly teach at, is having their play this weekend. So anyone who teaches at the high school won't be able to go.

They'll probably go another weekend instead, so I click on Delly's blog to see if she has any information because she probably does. But she doesn't.

I exit out of the internet and set my laptop down on the couch, looking instead at the television where Ross Gellar is complaining to the rest of the friends about someone at work eating his Thanksgiving sandwich.

It's a reminder that Thanksgiving is close. Which means the end of the semester is close too. It's only a few weeks until it's been one year since I made out with Peeta at a party and then slowly allowed him into my heart.

"I'm going to go to the library," I say, standing up and grabbing my laptop. "Anyone want to come?"

Johanna shakes her head as she plops down on the couch with a bowl of mac and cheese, but Madge nods her head. She needs to print her new draft.

Since my blackout night, I've been very careful to make my roommates not worry about me. I keep my feelings about Peeta being away hidden until I'm alone. They don't understand. I don't need a quick fuck or a new boyfriend or anything. I just need to survive for a year and a half. Then, Peeta will come back home and we can start again.

It's like a mantra. Or a prayer. It's how I survive – one day at a time.

I spend a good majority of my weekend in the library, but I don't get much work done. I keep stalking Peeta and his housemates' blogs, but no one updates. So then I end up trying to distract myself by taking Buzzfeed quizzes, but that just ends up reminding me of Peeta because we used to do that all the time. So then I pull up a playlist on YouTube of funny videos Madge sent me and I lose myself in those. It works to make me feel better, but doesn't help me make corrections to my thesis chapter.

On Monday I make it back to the dorm before anyone else. Madge has a late class and Johanna has a meeting for a club and Annie is at swim practice. I lie down on the couch and pull up my internet window, out of habit pulling up Peeta's blog first. Again, the last update is one I've already read a hundred times. The others have updated about the play they helped put on with their kids. So I check Delly to see if there's anything she wrote. She did.

She updated a few minutes ago and has a long post about their trip this weekend. Apparently, the other Heridas house was doing their silent retreat this last weekend and so they couldn't go either. Rosa just brought Delly and Peeta up. And Delly has no shortage of pictures. There are plenty of Peeta and the kids, and a few paragraphs about how much they love him. He played soccer with them in an open field behind the small school. They helped Rosa with her weekend English class, which didn't just serve the children but the entire community.

I take a few minutes to really look at a few of the pictures of him with the kids. His skin is a soft honey color now, his face covered in freckles, and – is that supposed to be a beard? It looks like he hasn't shaved in a while and his face is covered in patches of flaxen hair. Actually, it's more on his neck, I suppose. You can't really see any of the hair unless the picture is up close. There are a few of Peeta close enough to see his attempts at a beard, mostly with one or two of the kids. Occasionally Delly is in them too, smiling with a cute girl with pigtails between them. But there are plenty of pictures of Peeta and Delly together. Alone. My teeth are grating when I get to a picture of Delly holding a clump of grass. Next to it is one of she and Peeta laughing as she points to her ring finger.

_Yulitza, one of the eight-year-olds, asked Peeta and I if we were married. When we said no, she wanted to hold a wedding in the field and even picked me a bouquet of long grass to hold. How cute is she? We played along for a minute, but don't worry Mom and Dad, I'm not coming home a married woman!_

I can't finish. I shut my laptop and put it on the couch.

What just happened?

What did I read?

What is going on down there?

I have never hated anyone in my life like I hate Delly Cartwright in this moment. It's probably irrational. She said so herself – they played along. But eight-year-olds are smart enough to see whether people are acting like they're married or not. Delly should know that it's not her place to be joking like that. Peeta is already in a relationship – with me!

But he actually isn't. Not technically.

I feel like I'm going to be sick.

For a minute, I pace. I wander around barely able to breathe. But that's no use. I try to lie in bed but my head just won't turn off. It's spinning. I want the images in my head to disappear, poof away as easily as it was to turn off my laptop. So I go to the only place that is completely pitch black – the storage closet. No windows, no light, just a place to sob in peace.

Johanna comes back first. Her meeting must have been shorter than usual. She shouts into the apartment.

"Katniss? Are you here?"

I don't reply. I stuff my face into my knees.

I hear her sit down on the couch and turn on the television. She stuffs in one of the DVDs for the _The Office_. Before long, Steve Carrell's voice is echoing through the room. She chuckles every now and then.

Madge comes home sometime during the second episode.

"I will be so happy when that class is over," she says. I can hear her fall onto the couch. "Where's Katniss?"

"Probably the library."

"She left her laptop here."

"Maybe she got dinner with Gale?"

"No, I saw Gale when I was walking back from class. He was heading up to meet Thom in the library."

"She'll be back eventually," Jo says. "Aw, shit!" I hear her footsteps come closer to where I'm trying to hide in our storage closet. "Goddamn to-go containers. They need to switch back to the – holy fucking shit! Katniss, what the are you doing in here?"

I keep my head on my knees and try not to look up because I'm afraid if I do I'm going to start crying all over again.

Madge pushes passed Johanna and crawls into the storage closet beside me. It's a tight squeeze. It's really not big enough for two people with all the junk we have in here, but she wraps her arms around me and doesn't say anything. We don't need to – we've hit the point in our friendship where Madge understands what's going on with me sometimes before I do. Johanna turns around and I hear her stomping back toward the common room.

"Katniss! What's your password?"

I lift my head and Madge gives me a look. She must see how bad I look. I feel terrible. My eyes hurt. My throat is clogged.

"Katniss, tell me your goddamn password!"

I can't talk. Even though I can see where she's sitting on the couch and could open my computer for her, I can't do that either. Instead, I just lean my head on Madge's shoulder. She knows my password – and Johanna probably does too if she was thinking straight but right now she just looks so angry. Madge yells as quietly as she can to Johanna.

Then she turns her attention back to me, just holding me in her arms as Johanna probably begins reading everything I've just read.

"Do you want to get out of the closet?" Madge asks. I shake my head. "Okay, we'll stay here."

I can hear Johanna mumbling to herself as she reads. She grunts. She hisses. She's not happy. After awhile I hear her footsteps again and she comes to the closet. She has her hands in the air.

"Okay, Katniss, I'm done with this whole I'm-fine-I'm-handling-it-don't-worry-about-me façade. We let it go on long enough," she says. "This isn't healthy–"

"Johanna!" Madge hisses. "Is now really the time?"

"Yes!" Johanna says. "You and Annie coddling her and letting her live in this fantasy isn't helping her and maybe if she's this upset she'll finally see some reason!" I can vaguely hear something loud in the background. "I'm done with your theory of waiting for her to come to us. We know Katniss doesn't come to us for stuff like this!"

"What is going on?"

Annie materializes out of nothing, or at least it seems like that because how else could she have such perfect timing.

Johanna turns to her. "Peeta douchebag Mellark again! What else is new?"

Johanna is jerked out of the doorway. I shut my eyes tight, trying to disappear. Madge strokes my hair. We can still hear them talking.

"What happened?"

"Madge and I found Katniss in the fucking closet because of something some idiot wrote on a blog," Johanna says. She's actually seething as she explains Delly's post. I try to block that out.

"It's all probably some huge misunderstanding."

"Oh my _God_!" Johanna shouts. "All three of you are living in your asses! Why the fuck do you think he broke up with her before he left? Because he's a twenty-two-year-old guy, that's why! Having a girlfriend in another country that you can't see for two years sort of hurts the prospects of getting your dick wet!"

"Peeta's not like that," I say.

Madge nods and continues stroking my hair. "I know, sweetie."

"Johanna, calm down. This isn't doing anyone any good."

"No, I sat around long enough watching you tell her that he's a good guy. We all talked about this over the summer when Madge told us they were still talking and we all fucking agreed then so why is it different when we're actually talking to Katniss!" she screams. "It's not doing her any good. She's in a fucking closet crying over someone that we all keep telling her is a good guy."

Johanna lets out an angry groan or shriek. I'm not really sure what to call it.

"What sort of douchebag asks someone out when they know they're leaving the country? And then, when they decide to go their separate ways, he lets her keep texting him? He _knew_ he was her first boyfriend. He _knew_ she was too attached! He led her on emotionally because he knew it'd be easy to forget all about her as soon as he left the country so he might as well feel good until he takes off and then he leaves _us_ to pick up all these broken pieces while he's off unattached and able to fuck whatever one of those sluts he chooses!"

"Jo–"

"Katniss, he's not worth it!"

"Johanna!"

"What, Annie? What?" she squeals. "This is toxic behavior. It's toxic. And I'm scared! Okay? I'm scared for her!"

I turn my head up toward Madge. "Do you think he's bad?"

She sighs. "I think it's a bad situation," she says. She starts to play with my hair.

Annie manages to get Johanna to stop yelling and then comes over to the closet. She kneels down and gives us a smile, but I can see it's forced. The frustration in her eyes is so vivid you could probably touch it.

"Johanna and I are going to go to the Townie for a little while so she can chill out," Annie says. She's talking more to Madge than she is to me. "Are you going to be okay?"

Madge nods. "We'll text you if we need anything."

Annie gives me a quick glance and then stands up. I can hear her muttering to Johanna until the door shuts behind them.

"Do you want to get out of the closet now?" Madge asks. I feel like I should but I'm not sure I'd be able to right now. I don't think my legs will work. My entire body feels like jello. So I shake my head and Madge sighs. "Okay. We'll stay."

* * *

_Notes_

Okay, sorry that this chapter took so long to get up. I originally planned for five short chapters but then it really look a life of it's own.

The title of this chapter comes from the song _Something I Need_ sung by OneRepublic.

Saint Robert Bellarmine, S.J., from whom I took the name for the dorm Gale and his buddies lived in freshman year, was an Italian Jesuit and Cardinal of the Catholic Church. He died in 1621. As I said in the previous chapter's author's note, there are illusions that Panem City University is a Catholic institution. This is another one.

I have been to Quito, but it was many many years ago, and I have never been to Guayaquil, so much of it is based off research I've done online, reading blogs from volunteers in the program that I am basing Heridas Santas on. Escuela Santa Narcisa de Jesus, the school that Peeta and Delly teach at, is also based on a school this program sends its volunteers to.

Narcisa de Jesus Martillo y Moran was a Roman Catholic saint from Ecuador, a laywoman known for her charitable giving and her devotion to God. She actually began her mission of helping the poor and the sick, as well as caring for abandoned children, in Guayaquil, after she moved there in 1852 at age 19. I thought it was a fitting name for the school.

Yulitza was the name of a little girl I met while I was in Ecuador, doing service work while I was in high school. She was adorable and loved playing matchmaker. Yulitza in this story is based on her.

Again, I'm so sorry that this took 7+ weeks to update. My apologies. I hope this makes up for it.

Some formatting changes and additional lines will be found in the version on AO3. It doesn't affect the story, but if you read it on one or the other you will notice a slight different.

If you would like to follow me on Tumblr, the link is in my profile. I have the same username over there – dracoisalooker76.


	3. Chapter 3

**Warning (Spoiler Alert):** There is a relationship that will emerge between Katniss and Gale in the latter parts of this chapter. I am an Everlark shipper and I would not write this unless it was absolutely necessary for the story. If you do not want to read the parts where they are in a relationship, please skip the sections beginning with breaks that look like *...* instead of ...

Thank you.

* * *

**03: Yeah, he's still coming, just a little bit late; he got stuck at the Laundromat washing his cape**

I spend the majority of my time in the library. It's not unusual. With the amount of work that I have to do before Thanksgiving, my roommates are lucky that I sleep in the dorm and not in one of the library cubicles. But, eventually, I do have to make my way back to the dorm while they're still awake and I'm not looking forward to it.

It isn't a secret that they want to talk to me about what happened – about how I hid in a storage closet because of Peeta. And, while I admit now that it wasn't the highlight of my life, it isn't as bad as they think. It's not like I'm self-harming or doing anything dangerous. It was a storage closet and I would have made my way out on my own eventually if Johanna didn't freak out.

When I arrive, the place is dark. Glancing at the clock, I realize that they're at the hockey game, so I have a good hour before they make it back. I flip on the light and sit on the couch, keeping my laptop in my bag and turning on the television instead. They left a Friends DVD in so I start up the first episode on the disk and watch it.

My third episode has just started when my phone vibrates on the coffee table. I reach over to pick it up, certain it's going to be Madge again. She's texted me at least a thousand times this week asking me when I'll be home, turning into _if_ I'll be home messages by the end of the week. But it isn't Madge. Instead it's Gale.

_Gale Hawthorne [Sent November 21, 10:17pm]: Hey are you still at the library? I have a thesis chapter I have to finish and was wondering if you could use some company?_

I frown. Gale loves hockey games and considering this game is against our crosstown rivals they all probably got trashed. But if he's going to work on his thesis, maybe he didn't go to the game with them like I thought he would.

_You didn't go to the game? [Delivered 10:18pm]_

The little bubble pops up, indicating that he's typing, but then it disappears. I keep watching, getting more confused as his typing bubble keeps popping up and disappearing. That should be an easy question to answer. Either yes or no. Finally, he sends whatever took him so long to figure out what to type.

_Gale Hawthorne [Sent 10:20pm]: I did but I didn't drink. Beetee would have my ass if I don't have this ready and the edits done on my previous chapter by Monday :( so what floor are you on?_

I roll my eyes. Of course Gale would still figure I was at the library and be pushy enough to ask which floor I'm on. We don't often study together. I do my best work alone.

_I'm finished for tonight. I left an hour ago [Delivered 10:20pm]_

_But I can come if you need company. Mine can use all the work it can get and I'm just watching tv [Delivered 10:20pm]_

This time, his typing bubble pops up and doesn't go away. He sends it within a few seconds.

_Gale Hawthorne [Sent 10:21pm]: Nah that's cool. Enjoy the night off_

_Are you sure you don't want me to come? [Delivered 10:21pm]_

_Gale Hawthorne [Sent 10:22pm]: No seriously, Catnip, it's fine. I probably won't stay too long anyway and just go early tomorrow instead. Don't worry about it_

My eyes narrow. That was a complete one-eighty. One minute he's worried about his advisor being mad at him for delaying his chapter and the next he's nonchalant about even going to the library? I shake my head. Thom probably suggested going to a bar and Gale decided he wouldn't get that much done before the library closes at midnight like it does on Fridays anyway. I try not to think anything of the weird exchange and look back toward the television.

About ten minutes later, I can hear someone pressing the keys to get into our dorm. The door swings open and Annie enters, taking off her coat to reveal the gold hockey jersey she wears to games.

"Hey!" she says, smiling. "I was beginning to think the librarian took you prisoner."

I shake my head. "Not yet," I say. "Where are Jo and Madge?"

"They went over to hang out at the Townie," Annie says. "They're having a chill night, I guess." She sits down next to me on the couch and smiles. "You missed a good game."

"Did they win?"

Annie nods. "Gloss scored with ten seconds left to put them ahead. Everyone was going crazy." She rubs her hands together and sets them down on her knees. I feel my senses go on high alert just a minute too late for me to run. "How are you doing?"

Suddenly Gale's odd text messages make sense. It was all some orchestrated scheme to get me alone with Annie, who is by far the best at talking to people in trouble. That's why Madge and Jo didn't come back with her. I turn away and cross my arms. This is like some sort of intervention and I don't think I need that.

"Fine," I say. "I'm actually really tired, so–"

"Katniss, wait," Annie says, reaching for my arm to stop me from standing. "I know that you don't want to talk about it, but we're all really worried about you. We just want to know what we can do."

I lean against the back of the couch and turn my head away from her so I can close my eyes. I feel like there are a ton of bricks that get dropped on my chest whenever I think about it. I haven't been able to check the blogs for fear of what I might see. I know Peeta didn't break up with me for his own personal gain. It hurt him too. But, after what Johanna had to say, it just makes me so confused. My emotions are so out of whack. I miss him and I know I still love him, but at the same time I'm really mad at him for letting Delly write that. Granted, he might not know that she did, but what if he does? He can't possibly be over me yet, can he?

"This situation is terrible," Annie continues. I feel her hand rest on my arm, gently rubbing in a comforting motion. "No one envies you for having to go through this. But we're here for you, okay? I'm more than willing to just listen to you talk if that's what you want to do. I know you might not want to, but sometimes it helps."

I had done so well not thinking about Peeta today. I had focused in on my thesis after class and whenever my thoughts wandered, I stopped whatever I was doing and did something else. I listened to music that reminded me of Johanna. I texted Prim to see how she liked the movie she went to see last night. It worked with varying levels of success.

I pull out my phone. My lock screen is still a picture of me and Peeta making goofy faces. There are times when I just look at the screen and get lost. I might as well admit that too.

Annie doesn't push. She just sits there, rubbing my arm and waiting. She'd probably wait a lifetime if I asked.

"I don't know what to do anymore," I murmur.

"What do you mean, hun?"

I don't know when I started crying, only that the tears that are running down my face are landing on my phone. I wipe the water away and turn to her. "I just want him to come home," I say. "And I don't want him to be around her anymore."

Annie takes me in her arms and lets me cry for a while. Once I'm no longer sobbing and it's dulled down to a few sniffles every once and while, she speaks again.

"I know it sucks. It's terrible watching someone you care about behave like that with someone else," she says.

I rub my nose. "You think he loves her?"

She shakes her head. "I don't think so. That'd be a little soon," she says. "But he might move on."

"He said he'd come back," I tell her.

Annie nods her head. "You know him better than I do."

She's right. I do. And Peeta told me that if it were meant to be it would happen again when he came back. He will come back. And when he does, I'll be right there waiting for him and we'll start exactly where we left off.

...

I usually spend Thanksgiving with the Undersees. Thanksgiving is too close to winter break for me to go home and waste money on an airline ticket for just a few days. The Undersees have always welcomed me with open arms. But this year I don't particularly want to go. Madge hasn't stopped looking at me like I'm part of those Sarah McLaughlin animal abuse commercials since the closet incident a week and a half ago. So, when Gale mentions in passing that he's staying on campus for Thanksgiving, much to his mother's distain, because he really needs to finish this section of his thesis before finals, it gives me the perfect excuse to stay too.

"Are you sure?" Madge says, her weekend bag slung over her shoulder. It's Wednesday and her dad is going to pick her up on his way home from work. "If you guys want to come just for tomorrow, you can. I'll come pick you up before dinner."

I shake my head. "We already told Father Boggs we'd go to his on-campus dinner," I tell her. Father Boggs is a Jamaican priest who holds a Thanksgiving dinner on campus for those of us lucky enough to have to stay. He cooks a bunch of traditional Jamaican dishes and there's usually no turkey, but apparently it's a pretty fun time.

I'll probably only go for a little while. The library is my new best friend now.

"If you change your mind," she says. Her phone starts ringing and she picks it up, telling her dad she'll be down in a few minutes. She gives me a hug when she hangs up. "Let me know if you need anything."

I nod and after she leaves I have the entire place to myself. Johanna skipped her class this week in favor of a cheaper flight and a few more days at home. She texted us a picture of the Yankees subway stop on Friday night because she knew it would rile Madge up. Annie took the train home earlier this afternoon. The dorm feels so utterly empty, but in some ways that's good. I haven't had a chance to really be alone in a week and a half. Whenever I came home it was either too late to really enjoy it or someone was awake and ready to try and intercept me.

But now it's quiet.

I'm an introvert – always have been and always will be. I need those moments to recharge by myself. I take a few minutes to just lie on the couch, taking a few deep breaths and letting my mind wander. But, of course, it wanders to places that I don't want it to go, like Ecuadorian towns and schools run by nuns and volunteers.

It takes me an hour to work up the courage to open my laptop. I've been fighting the urge to check Peeta's page again for the better part of the last five days. The initial pain over seeing Delly's comment has since subsided into a slow burn that is cooking me from the inside out. I need to see what has happened since then, see that Peeta is ignoring it or if he's retaliated with an equally disgusting post about her. I know it's the former – Peeta still loves me, I know he does – but I've never been able to check, that part of me that's a little unsure making it impossible to visit the page.

And, of course, Peeta hasn't updated. It doesn't surprise me, but it does leave me a little frustrated. I just needed a little thing from Peeta, a few sentences that didn't include Delly Cartwright, and my heart would start beating normally again. But nothing. Instead, I wander over to Delly's page and find that they had a silent retreat over the weekend and – of course – she and Peeta sat together in the van on their way to the center. There's a selfie to prove it.

My phone vibrates on the table and I pick it up.

_Gale Hawthorne [sent 7:23pm]: Are you taking tonight or tomorrow off from working on your thesis?_

There is no way I'm going to be able to work on it tonight. Not now that I'm in some crazy purgatory, stuck between wanting to sob uncontrollably and wring Delly Cartwright's sunburned neck.

_Tonight [Delivered 7:24pm]_

_Gale Hawthorne [sent 7:24pm]: Wanna come over? I'm watching a movie and I have some mikes left over you might like_

I shake my head. I can't go over there now, not when I feel my eyes getting wet. I grab one of the box sets of _The Office_ that we have, my laptop, and my phone and wander into my bed before replying.

_Nah I'm just going to sleep early. I was up all night last night working on it. Thanks anyway though [Delivered 7:28pm]_

I've just gotten the episode started, the one where Michael is attempting to prove to Darryl that working in an office is just as dangerous as working in the warehouse, when he texts me back.

_Gale Hawthorne [sent 7:30pm]: No problem. Sweet dreams. I'll stop by in the morning and we can go to Fr. Boggs's together?_

_Sure [Delivered 7:30pm]_

I cry when it seems like Michael is going to kill himself while pretending to kill himself and manage to convince myself that I just really like Michael Scott and that this has absolutely nothing to do with Peeta.

...

When Gale knocks on my door before pressing in the code, I freeze for a split second before I remember that I told him we would go to the Thanksgiving dinner thing together. I don't want to go anymore. I want nothing less than to sit on this couch and watch _Friends_.

"Hey," he says walking in. When he looks at me, covered in a blanket with my pajamas still on, he raises an eyebrow. "You going in the Snuggie or what?"

"I'm not going."

"Why not?" he asks, looking me over. "Come on, Catnip. It'll be fun."

I look up at him and I know just from the way he looks back that my face is absolutely pathetic. Oh well, maybe that will get him to go away.

"I can't go right now, okay?"

He sighs. "Okay," he says, sitting down in Madge's butterfly chair. "What are we watching?"

"You can go."

"It's Thanksgiving, Katniss," he says, giving me a look that is just asking me to argue with him. "I'm not leaving you moping on the couch by yourself in your PJs and wrapped up in a Snuggie. Where did you get that anyway?"

"It's Madge's."

He snorts and looks back at the television. "Of course Madge has a fucking Snuggie," he mumbles. "Those things are the biggest joke."

"You know you can go," I tell him. "You don't have to stay with me. I'll be okay."

"Like I said, it's Thanksgiving. You're supposed to be with your family and you're the closest thing I've got to them right now," he says, his eyes not leaving the television as Joey walks out with a turkey stuck on his head. "It's either you, a room full of strangers, or my thesis. I'll give you three guesses as to what sounds the most fun and the first two don't count."

We end up marathoning all the _Friends_ Thanksgiving episodes and when we get hungry we order from the local Chinese delivery place that all the kids order from when they're drunk. They even recognize Gale's phone number and he sheepishly explains to me that he's always the one who calls in their order. I think it's funny that the delivery boy calls Gale because he's at the Townie, just figuring that was where he needed to drop the food off, and no one was answering the door.

I think it's even funnier when the delivery boy makes a big deal of apologizing when he drops it off at my dorm.

"We have no self control when we're drunk, okay?" Gale says, turning bright red as I laugh. It's the first time I've laughed, really laughed, in a long time. "Chinese sounds good, we order, and we usually end up regretting it the next morning. And then we do the same thing the next weekend. My mom would have a heart attack if she knew I was eating this much take out."

"You have a kitchen," I say, pulling my container out of the bag. "You could totally make food."

"Hey," he says, pointing his fork at me. "We may eat a lot of take out, but it's because we know not to drunk cook. And with the dining hall two steps away? Would you cook?"

"I do cook," I tell him. It's Kraft Mac and Cheese and most of the time I still mess it up, but I do attempt to cook sometimes. Annie cooks for us. She's much better at it.

He shrugs. "Maybe you need to cook for me sometime, show me how it's done."

"Maybe I will," I say. Then I turn away.

Gale and I have always had the type of friendship where we tease each other. That's nothing new. But there is some sort of undercurrent to this conversation that is making me shiver. I'm not exactly sure what it is, but it's different. Something I'm not familiar with when it comes to Gale.

We don't talk about cooking for the rest of the night. Madge calls to see if we're okay and then we try, and fail, to get to the library. Gale is a bad influence. When I start packing my backpack, he pulls out the DVD collection and insists that it's a holiday and we should enjoy it. So, instead of going to the library we end up watching _Argo_ and then _Ferris Bueller's Day Off_. Or we try. I fall asleep halfway through. When I wake up, the title screen is playing over and over again and Gale is sleeping in Madge's butterfly chair. I shut my eyes and rest my head back on the couch pillow. The next time I wake up I'm in my own bed, the sun is shining, and when I wander into the common room, Gale has taken the couch. I shake him awake after I get ready and we stop by his Townie on our way to the library. I'm not letting him sway me into not getting my work done again.

...

We only have a week and a few days between Thanksgiving break and the start of Study Days, the most hated four days on campus that lead into the dreaded finals week. I only have two actual sit down finals, one at the beginning and one at the end, and since I've been diligent with my thesis work, I'm right where my advisor wants me to be going into the winter holidays. So, while Johanna, Annie, and Madge go study in a classroom, I either stay in the dorm or go to the library or sometimes just go for a run or something equally as unproductive to my schooling.

Johanna keeps watching me though. Whenever we're in the same area, I can feel her eyes on me, as if she's begging for me to breakdown in front of her again. I won't though. Not like that.

Peeta posts again at the beginning of December. It's basically just a rehash of everything he's done so far, more apologies for his lack of blogging, and a joke that maybe his family and friends should just be following Delly and Messer. I do, I have been, but it's like some strange form of masochism following Delly. She works alongside Peeta at the same school so they are literally together all the time. And while it seems like they're nothing more than good friends, I find myself biting back jealousy.

And a little bit of anger too.

Peeta is clearly having a great time in Ecuador. There is never a photo of him doing anything but smiling that huge grin that I fell in love with and whenever he does post he talks about how much he loves it there. Why is it that he is perfectly fine? I had asked him that the night before he left – how could he be so calm and happy when our world was literally falling apart around us? He's made his own little world it seems like, whereas mine is the same as it's always been with just one big gaping hole in it.

I hate what he's done to me. I literally feel like I have no control over any of my emotions. I go from astronomically happy just to see his face to mind-blowingly angry all in a matter of moments. I just need to go home. I need to be away from everything and everyone who thinks I'm in some grand crisis. Yes, I hid out in a closet, but haven't I shown them that I'm better than that? Can't they see that I'm going to be fine? I just need a little bit of time away to not think about anything.

But, as if the universe has decided to hate me, when I get home it's blatantly obvious that Prim has fallen in love.

At seventeen, my sister is more beautiful than I could ever hope to be, and it's no surprise that boys have taken interest in her. Had I gone on Facebook at all in these last few weeks, I probably would have known just how mushy and gushy she's become – posting love song lyrics and changing her profile picture constantly. But I had decided to block Facebook after spending hours one night going through Peeta's pictures after he was tagged in a #tbt Finnick posted and so I missed all of it. Which, to be honest, I'm kind of thankful for.

Because I get enough of it in person when I get home.

Dad warns me in the truck on the drive home from the airport that Prim has stars in her eyes. The kid, a boy named Harvey whose older brother had been in my grade and nicknamed Goat Man because the goats that belonged at the old Thread farm used to follow him everywhere, is gangly and her age but a sweet kid apparently that my father approves of and my mother really likes. He takes her places in his old beat up truck and always has her home by curfew and is a church boy. Prim can't go one conversation without bringing up his name and she's constantly texting him and all I can do is shake my head and try to hide my disgust at the whole thing.

By the end of my Christmas break Prim is already talking about marriage and how she thinks the story is so much like Mom and Dad's and I'm just so done with it that I'm not even sad to leave. What I want to do is knock some sense into her – because they've been dating for how long and she's dreaming about a wedding? Peeta and I dated for five months and we didn't start planning a wedding or anything like that and she's been in this relationship for five weeks, maybe nine at the most.

It's absolutely ridiculous. Stupid and a good way for her to end up with her heart broken.

I had planned to spend a good amount of my break with Prim, because who knows what's going to happen when I graduate, but we barely get more than a few uninterrupted hours alone. Instead, I spend time with her stupid cat Buttercup, who is just as mad about her getting a boyfriend as I am. It's the first time in forever that he hasn't hissed at me when we were in the same room.

There is no safe place anymore. When I'm at school I'm surrounded by Peeta and when I'm at home Prim is intolerable to be around. I'm not sure what one is better. Probably school, because at least then I'm not bombarded with Prim and her sunny disposition on love as well as Delly's blog posts.

I try to convince myself that Delly's posts included Peeta because they just so happen to work at the same school. If the other three worked at the school too, their faces would be all over her blog as well. They are when they go on outings. Delly spares no thought to rambling on for an additional paragraph just to include everyone in her blog posts. But Peeta is the predominant feature. There are pictures of them laughing, hugging, just being friendly in a way that if it were Finnick or one of the boys I would probably think it was cute, but it's not cute. Not at all. Because Peeta should know better. If he still loves me then he shouldn't be getting all cozy with some other girl.

Unless he no longer loves me.

It's the only thing that I can think about.

Is Johanna right? Did Peeta just string me along until August so he could feel good and then – _whoops, sorry, Katniss, I gotta be free_ – or was it a more gradual decision? Feelings are things that confuse me. How can you be in love with someone one day and suddenly lose that the next? One day just wake up and say, you know what, that guy wasn't the great love of my life. How do people do that?

I want to be able to do that. If Peeta has done it, I want to do that.

He and Delly are clearly happy together. And I want to wish them well but honestly I just want to have Peeta out of my life. If I can't have him, I don't want to hear about the girl who does.

So when I get off the subway stop at school and walk to my dorm, I know what I have to do. Johanna, Annie, and Madge are all already there, talking enthusiastically about their winter adventures as if we hadn't been texting each other all break.

"Hey, Katniss!" Annie says when I walk in. "How was your flight?"

"You're right," I say, looking more toward Johanna than anyone else. "I need to stop stalking him."

The three exchange glances. "You sure?" Johanna asks.

I nod. "I want to get over him."

I had this all planned out in my head. The entire plane ride and then the subway journey were just consumed with thoughts of cleansing my life. Starting fresh. Starting over. But when I delete the Tumblr app and my account, I feel like I'm going to be sick, and when I let Johanna set up a self-control on my laptop for his page that she wants to monitor for the next few weeks, I feel my throat closing. But I don't start crying until I defriend him on Facebook and Annie, Madge, and Johanna do the same. Johanna also blocks Finnick's posts from coming through on my newsfeed.

And that's it. It takes ten minutes to completely remove Peeta Mellark from my life.

"This will help," Johanna says. "I promise. When I broke up with Jackson, this is what I had to do. It helped to not see him everywhere."

I nod, even though my stomach is rolling in circles. This is a good thing. I know it's a good thing. My head is telling me it's a good thing.

My heart just isn't listening.

...

It's as if I go through some sort of withdrawal. Like I'm a drug addict in detox.

I must try to log onto Peeta's blog at least three times a day even though Johanna blocks it every night for me and even though I'm willingly giving her power to do this, I get very angry with myself in the library when I spend an hour trying to figure out a way to hack the system. The self-control on my laptop is better than in my head though because I spend another hour starring at the public computers, trying to convince myself that I shouldn't go over there and log onto Peeta's page from them.

I'm doing this for myself. I'm doing this because it will help me.

If it's going to happen, it will happen when he gets back.

Don't waste your life stalking Peeta when he clearly doesn't want you to be doing so.

I make it a week before I end up checking it. I accidentally forget my laptop in the dorm on my way to class and realize during my break that I have to finish up a quick post to the online server for this class. It shouldn't take more than five minutes, but I was going to do it between classes and if I go back to grab my laptop I won't have time for lunch, so I decide to use the school computers.

After spending the five minutes posting it, I realize that I might as well spend the next few minutes on the computer. The lines at the dining hall will be a mess and I can avoid standing and doing nothing by fooling around on the computer. I check my email, do some actually important things, and then type in Peeta's URL, something that after typing it in so often since September I have memorized even though I don't particularly want to anymore.

Peeta posted for New Years about a week late and he hasn't updated since. I've read this post before, a few times during the last weeks of my winter break, and each time it got more difficult to read. It was part of the reason that I finally bit the bullet and tried to block him.

It's not much of a post. He has a few pictures of him and his students. There's one of him and his housemates. He doesn't even mention Delly.

It's this one line, buried deep in a paragraph about teaching a kid named Julio how to play basketball, that gets me every time.

_I'm already in so deep with these kids that I don't know how I'm ever going to leave them – perhaps Rosa will need a roommate when my term's up ;)_

And now I'm crying in the middle of the library.

I quickly pack up my things and try to hide my face as best as I can as I walk out, but I think it's pretty obvious to everyone walking by me that I'm not doing well. Luckily we're in between class times on a cold winter day, most everyone is either in class or getting lunch. I walk through the plaza in front of the library and through the quad until I reach the building where my next class is, finding a little alcove and sitting down, trying to regain some composure. I have this elective with Gale. He'll notice if my face is blotchy and I look like I've been sobbing.

It's a joke. It has to be. The winky face proves it. That's what winky faces are for – and I know Peeta loves to use them when he's typing to make sure that people understand his joking nature when they can't hear the inflections of his voice.

But the thing is that I can see it not being a joke next year.

Whereas Delly and the others often blog about their experiences with their housemates and vaguely about the actual work their doing, Peeta's few posts are _always_ about his kids and I know the reason that he's the worst blogger of the group is because he spends so much of his free time with them. I need to stop doing this to myself because, honestly, there's a possibility that Peeta might not come back, or at least not when he's supposed to. The fact that he broke up with me – told me to move on and have fun and don't _wait_ for him, it'll happen if it's supposed to happen – gives him the free reign to do whatever he wants.

I may not be losing him to Delly. I may just be losing him to Ecuador.

Repellant. That's what I am. I meet and fall in love with the sweetest guy in the world – because, let's face it, nice people have a way of nestling into my heart and rooting there – and he takes off to help children in need. Which is all well and good, I suppose, except he's choosing this over me. Can't he help kids in the US? Can't he come back and take what he learn and apply it to kids that live near me? Or is that selfish to ask?

I sit in the alcove for a while longer, until it's almost time for class. I do want to stop at the bathroom and see how bad I look. I hope I can play it off like the redness is just from the cold weather. But, unfortunately, my luck sucks, as if I hadn't already known that. My face is so blotchy and red that I know it's going to not only be obvious to Gale but to the rest of the class.

I pull out my phone.

_I'm skipping today. Can I get your notes later? [Delivered 12:54pm]_

The response is almost immediate.

_Gale Hawthorne [Sent 12:54pm]: Are you okay?_

Gale knows me too well. Just like if I had sent this to Johanna, Madge, or Annie. I don't skip class. I'm paying a lot of money to go to these classes and everyone may laugh at me for saying that but it's true and I'm not wasting that. I've only skipped class a handful of times in four years – when I needed to have that extra hour to finish an assignment or when I was literally too sick to move. But Gale knows that this week is a pretty light week for me and there isn't anything pressing I need to do for my thesis that would make me skip.

I debate what to send him. He'll know I'm lying if I do. I type out a few responses and they all seem bogus, so I decide to go with the truth.

_No [Delivered 12:56pm]_

_Gale Hawthorne [Sent 12:56pm]: Where are you?_

_First floor [Delivered 12:56pm]_

_Gale Hawthorne [Sent 12:57pm]: I'm on my way. Don't move._

He finds me sitting in the corner near the elevators with my legs pulled up to my chest and my arms wrapped around them. Within moments I'm in his arms and telling him what happened.

"This is killing you, Catnip," he says, and he sounds just as broken as I feel.

I don't want this to kill me. Before I met Peeta I prided myself on having nerves of steel. I could handout the cold shoulder as good as I could take it. I had always been on my own. For eighteen years of my life my best friends were my parents and my little sister. Other people didn't matter. Their opinions of me didn't matter. Whether they liked me or not didn't matter. Until suddenly they did. Madge and Annie and Johanna. Gale and the boys. Peeta. All of these people that I've let into my life and have come to care about just as much as I care about my family. And, for the most part, I know that they care about me the same way I do them.

"Why am I not good enough?"

I want to take it back as soon as I've said it. I barely let those thoughts into my own head anymore, let alone tell them to anyone else. But when I close my eyes I'm eight years old again and watching Leevy invite all the girls in our class to a sleepover party except me and it's not as if I was really good friends with her – I wasn't – but when you're the only one not invited it doesn't matter if you're friends or not. It only makes it worse when both your moms find out because the town is too damn small and make a big deal out of it.

That was the last time I went to a sleepover party and the first time I ever called my mom to pick me up early. The next day, after the tears had dried and Dad had promised not to talk to her dad during their shift, was the day my mom drove Prim and me to the county library for the first time and got me my library card.

"You know what, little miss," Mom had said when we got there. "Those girls just don't know what to do with you because you're too smart of a cookie, you hear? And one day you're gonna be doing something special."

Like sobbing in a hallway while skipping class because of a boy. I'm sure that's exactly what my mom thought when she got me that library card.

It's irrational to be pulling all this up because of Peeta, but that's what comes to mind anyway. Peeta is in another hemisphere right now doing extraordinary things and I should be proud of him, but instead I'm here feeling sorry for myself because, yet again, I'm pulling up last on a totem pole.

"Not good enough?"

Gale pushes me away slightly so he can look me directly in the eyes. "Katniss, listen." I know he's serious when he doesn't call me Catnip. "You're one of the smartest people at this school–"

"I'm not naturally smart. Not like half the people here," I tell him. "I just work too hard."

He shakes his head. "Forget him," Gale says. "If he can't see how great you are, forget him and find someone who appreciates you."

We disappear before class lets out again, walking back through campus while it's still in that dead time where no one is walking around. We're halfway back to my dorm when I groan. If my roommates see me like this they're going to flip out.

"Can we go to your Townie?" I ask. He nods, but I can see the curiosity in his glance. "Madge and Johanna don't have class right now."

"They're just worried about how you're handling everything," he murmurs, almost too quietly amongst the whistling of the winter air through the wind tunnel we're currently passing through. "Like I am."

I knock his shoulder with mine. "I'll survive."

It's like I've hit some sort of magical switch. The hopelessness evaporates from his eyes and I know that what I've said and how I've said it must have sparked something to make him believe me.

"Glad to hear it," he says.

Thom and Castor are playing video games when we enter and they barely look up to acknowledge us. Gale tells me to get comfortable and I sit down in one of the extra recliners they brought to outfit their room. It's old and big and takes up more room than it needs to, but it's much more comfortable than the university's assigned chairs. I know for a fact that they threw those in the large storage closet in favor of the other chairs.

It's nice hanging out with the boys. They're so invested in their games and then talking about their upcoming party this weekend that they only make a few comments concerning me – like how they're happy to see me and how they're pretty sure they're more fun than the library. And they extend an invitation to their party, which Madge and them already knew about but they send me home with that reminder.

Gale offers to walk me to my dorm but I tell him I'm not an invalid and I can do it myself. It's almost like that's what he wanted to hear because his face stretches into a grin when I say it.

The first thing that I hear when I open the door is the television. Of course my roommates are watching a movie. Madge and Annie are relaxing on the couch with plates of food, _The Notebook_ playing softly on the screen. It's pretty far into it – Allie's talking with Lon.

"We left you some in the kitchen," Annie says, lifting up her plate. "Just leave a little for Johanna."

"Okay." I sit down on the arm of one of the chairs and watch the scene.

"..._with Noah I feel like one person and when I'm with you I feel like someone totally different_," Rachel McAdams says.

James Marsden sits down next to her. "_Look, it's normal not to forget your first love. I love you, Allie, but I want you for myself. I don't want to have to convince my fiancée that she should be with me._"

"_You don't have to. I already know I should be with you.__"_

"_And they lived happily ever after_," the narrator says.

I slide into the seat. I'll get the food later I guess. As much as I tell them I hate romantic movies, _The Notebook_ gets me every time. I blame the fact that I read the book when I was thirteen and impressionable. And the fact that my first crush was on Ryan Gosling – who has just come back on the screen.

While Noah and Allie hug, I look over at Madge and Annie, who are unusually quiet. This is Madge's favorite part.

They're both staring at me. "What?"

"Nothing," they both say.

We turn back to the television. "Thom told me to remind you guys about the party this weekend."

"Are you coming?" Madge asks. "Please?"

They're both staring at me again, eyes wide in anticipation. "Sure," I mumble.

Annie smiles and Madge smirks. "I'm holding you to that."

I grit my teeth already trying to figure out a way to get out of it.

...

The rest of my week goes by at normal speed. On Thursday night, Madge tries to get me to go out with them but I have a music quiz on Friday morning that I probably don't need to study for but don't want to risk being hungover while taking. It's just my fine art elective and he drops the lowest one, but I'd rather just not have to study for the last one than feel like I have to do stellar because I've got one that I need to drop.

And, besides, Friday night is Gale's party.

I haven't been to a party and I haven't drank since last semester where I got so trashed that I blacked out on Halloween. I've only gone out with my roommates the two times that I've gone to Gale's parties and both times so far have been a disaster, so I decide that maybe going sober will keep me from being an absolute wreck. I suppose I'd rather be miserable there than end up causing more drama. I don't want to be the crazy diva with a chip on her shoulder.

Parties aren't my thing though – they're way too loud and crowded for my taste. I pour straight orange juice into a red solo cup and try to find an empty corner some place to stand in so I'm not completely surrounded. This party is especially wild. People have been going stir crazy with the snowy weather and now is time to let loose. Johanna is dancing on a couch, well on her way to being drunk if she isn't already. Madge is playing beer pong as Gale's partner. Annie is in the kitchen doing some sort of shot with people that I don't recognize but she seems to know.

"Hey, Katniss!"

I jump at the loud shout in my ear and some of the orange juice spills out over the top of the cup. Dalton laughs.

"I hope you didn't just waste any of our liquor."

"No, this is just juice," I say. He seems sober. Dalton is such an obvious drunk. There are some, like Gale and Thom, that I can never really tell when they've been drinking unless they're completely smashed, but Dalton goes loopy after a beer or two.

He must be reading my mind. "Sober contact," he tells me, taking my drink and having a sip. I let him. "I drew the short straw."

"Unfortunate."

He chuckles. "Now, it's my duty as the sober contact to make sure that everyone is having fun," he says.

"I thought you were supposed to make sure everyone was being responsible," I deadpan. That's what a sober contact is. I went to the meeting at the beginning of school that you have to go to when living in the senior area and they stressed this about a hundred times in the half-hour presentation about having on-campus parties and how, if you don't want to get in trouble, you should register them with the RAs and have a sober contact for them.

He shrugs. "Responsible fun, then," he says. "But you, my dear don't appear to be having fun – responsible or otherwise."

"I don't really like parties," I tell him. He already knows this but I don't know what else to say. "Madge insisted."

"I know," he says. "We're all happy you're here, but I just thought I'd come over and tell you that if you need a break, you can go upstairs. All the rooms are locked, but I can give you the code to Gale and Thom's if you want. They said I could." Then he winks. "As long as you promise not to steal anything."

I roll my eyes. They lock the doors to the upstairs bedrooms so no one gets drunk and walks away with something. Most of their valuable stuff is up there. Peeta told me that once during one of his parties.

"Oh, shucks," I say. "I was really hoping to nab Thom's illegal octopus lamp."

Dalton laughs. "I'm glad your sass is back, Everdeen," he says. His smile is warm and wide. "But anyway, the code's twelve twelve, just press the one and the two at the same time twice and it should light up green. If you need help, I'll be circling around here."

"Thanks."

He grins and takes one more sip of my juice before handing it back and walking away.

I do take up Dalton's offer to go upstairs for a bit. I walk to Gale and Thom's room and find the keypad on their door, pressing the buttons labeled '1' and '2' just as Dalton said. The little light blinks green and clicks, so I open the door and shut it behind me, relocking it and then walking into the room.

It's a pretty big mess. They have big boxes of beer and some handles of vodka that they're probably keeping up here just in case they need to use them later tonight but not wanting them to be out if they don't. Both of their beds are unmade. I throw Gale's comforter over his sheets and jump up, curling into a comfortable position. His phone plug is next to his bed and I plug mine in. It was close to dying earlier and I had stopped using it to make sure I sustained at least ten percent battery.

I'm playing a game when I hear someone pressing the keypad. It fails the first time, but the person tries again and it works. Gale walks in and smiles at me, walking over to the bed and sitting on his desk so he can look at me.

"You okay?" he asks, his voice slurred.

"Yeah, I'm okay."

"You sure?"

I nod. "I am. It's just a little loud downstairs."

He grins one of those little boy smiles that drunk people tend to do – overly happy at the simplest things.

"I'm glad," he says. Then his smile disappears and he stares at me so seriously I would think he was sober if his voice didn't give him away. "It was killing me, Catnip. It was killing me to see you so upset."

"I know," I tell him. "But I'm going to be okay."

"Are you sure?"

I nod. "Yeah."

"Are you still sad?" he asks. "Because you're playing good poker right now, Catnip."

I bite my lip. Gale's trashed and he probably won't remember this in the morning, but I still tell him the truth. "I think I'm always going to be sad. He was really important to me," I say, feeling my throat close up. I pause, telling myself to hold it in. I have to. I'm not going to explode right now. "But the earth's still spinning so I guess I shouldn't act like it's the end of the world, right?"

"I wish I could make you happy," he says.

"You do," I tell him. "You've been so good to me. I don't know what I would have done without you and the girls."

We share a smile and I tell him to go back downstairs. He does, after a few prods, and leaves me alone again. No one else comes up until Annie comes to tell me we're leaving.

...

It gets easier. There isn't a day that goes by that I don't think about Peeta, but less of those days include me wanting to hide in a closet. There are moments where I wonder about what he's doing, but I check his blog less and less. I go to the winter play with Annie, I go to the gym with Johanna again, Madge doesn't feel the need to censor the movies we watch. I go to the hockey game against our rivals. I had neglected doing a lot of this first semester, spending the time alone locked in either the library or my room and stalking Peeta's blog, or Delly's or Messer's, in my attempts of finding out more.

Peeta clearly doesn't need me. He has his kids and this new life.

It feels good to be around my friends again. It feels good to be wanted. Dalton wasn't just being nice at the party – they all genuinely missed seeing me and make that known. These are the people that I should be pining for, the ones that actually care about me. If Peeta cared, he would have given me his blog information himself or decided to email me every once in a while. That's what Johanna says and when I mention it to Gale, trying to get the guy's perspective, he says that's what he probably would have done if he were in that situation.

"If I cared about someone, I'd make sure she knew," Gale says with gritted teeth. "I wouldn't just leave her hanging and hurting like you were."

For a while, part of me – a very delusional part of me – thinks about how maybe we're just like Noah and Allie in _The Notebook_. What if Peeta has been trying to write to me? What if I run into him or see him on the news in seven years and I find out that he was trying?

But that is a Nicholas Sparks novel. That's not real life. Besides, email is a lot more reliable and I don't have a mother or anyone trying to keep him from contacting me. It's just that Peeta doesn't care enough to do it and I'm angry that I wasted so much of my senior year thinking he did.

I'm just glad that I didn't waste the whole thing.

*...*

I've never been to a bar before. I turned twenty-one during finals junior year and the first half of my senior year was spent doing nothing outside checking in on Peeta and doing my thesis. But when Madge, Annie, and Johanna tell me that they're going to a bar in Twill Square, I surprise them all by asking if I can go.

"Of course you can come!" Madge says, the first to come to after my question. "Go get ready!"

"What do I wear?"

She sets down her curling iron. "I'll help you pick something out."

Madge and I are about the same size – both short with small chests and no hips – so when I need something to wear I can usually raid her closet. I look at what she has on while she pushes through her hangers. She just has on jeans, a pair of leather boots, and a sparkly shirt I know she bought last weekend at Anne Taylor Loft. I was there – she gushed about this shirt for at least twenty minutes and decided at the food court that she was going to wear it the next time they went out.

"Grab a pair of skinny jeans," she says, pulling out a black top from her closet. She moves to her dresser and pulls out a black lace bandeau before handing me both. "You can wear heels if you want it to be super sexy or boots if you want it to be more casual."

"This is sheer," I say.

She points to the bandeau. "That's why you have that. I mean, I suppose if you're more comfortable you can wear a cami under it, but, seriously? You won't be in the most revealing outfit tonight."

I've just put it on and am looking in the mirror, trying to decide if I'm actually going to do this, when Johanna leans against the doorway. "Meow, Kitty Kat," she says. "You look hot."

She's in a bodycon dress. It hugs all the curves that I don't have and leaves little to the imagination.

"Aren't you going to be cold?" I ask. It's still winter and still cold.

She rolls her eyes. "I'll be fine, Mom. It's not like I won't wear a jacket." She smirks. "The liquid blanket will help too. Come on, shots!"

The bar they've been going to is about ten minutes down the subway. It's called The District and I'm feeling a nice buzz when we get there. There's a decent line that Madge assures me will go quickly.

Johanna grabs her phone and reads a message. "Thom says they're inside already and have a table."

"How come we didn't go with them?" I ask.

Annie and Johanna both look at Madge and she groans. "Don't look at me like that!" she says. "They're just impatient! I don't take _that_ long."

The bicker while we wait and the line, like Madge said, goes quickly. I'm almost nervous to hand the bouncer my ID, afraid that he's going to turn me away when he inspects it. It's real, but still. It's nerve wracking.

"All set," he says.

It's dark and there's music playing, but it's not the same type of crowded as a Townie party. There's a dance floor and what looks like...karaoke maybe? The large bar is located in the center and there are plenty of tables lining the walls. It doesn't seem so bad.

I just have no idea what I'm doing.

Madge grabs my arm. "Here," she says, pulling me to the bar. "I'll get you tonight, since we never did anything for your birthday like this. Drinks on me."

"Madge–"

She shakes her head. "Nope, I got you," she says. She leans against the bar and waits for a minute. Suddenly, a young dark haired bartender is at her side and asking her what she'd like. She orders what sounds to me like a bunch of gobbledygook and he disappears, pulling out what looks like a hose and two glasses. When he comes back he sets them down in front of her. I watch as she hands him cash and tells him to keep the change as a tip.

She spins around and hands me one of the glasses. "Here. Try this. You'll probably like it."

"What is it?"

"Amaretto Sour. It tastes like jolly ranchers," she says. I take a sip and she's right. It's really sweet. "Like it?"

I nod.

"Good," she says. "You can try a few different things tonight and see what you like." She holds out her own. "Wanna sip? It's Vodka Cranberry."

I take a sip and must make a face because she chuckles. Hers is a little stronger than mine. "I'll stick to this, I think."

"Annie usually gets a Tequila Sunrise at some point in the night," Madge says as we start walking. "Get a sip of that. You seem to do well with tequila. You'll probably like it."

We sit at the table with the boys while we drink our first drinks. Then Thom orders a round of shots. If I was feeling pleasantly buzzed before, I'm definitely feeling it now. Madge sets another drink in front of me and Gale offers me a sip of his Jack and Coke. My nose is numb and I press on it a few times as I look around our table. Johanna and Thom took to the dance floor, dancing rather close, and I notice that my drink is gone.

"One more?" Madge asks. I should shake my head but I nod instead. She grabs my hand and we skip toward the bar. We're on our way back to the table when we get stopped by two really pretty boys.

It's too loud and I miss their names, but Madge seems to get them.

"This is Katniss," she says, nodding to me. "And I'm Madge."

"Katniss?" the slightly shorter one says. "That's pretty."

I let out a short chuckle not sure what I'm doing. My stomach is flopping, like I shouldn't be doing this, but why? I'm not taken.

I look down at my shoes. I don't have a boyfriend.

I gulp and try to get my heart to stop beating so frantically.

Most of the conversation goes right over my head. They're first year graduate students at the business school down the road from us. The blond clearly has taken a liken to Madge and the one who thought my name was pretty has since disappeared. I guess when a girl doesn't really talk back to you there's no use standing around.

There's a tug on my hand and I get pulled into Gale. He smirks as he pulls me away from Madge and toward the dance floor.

"Give them a little space. Your wingman job is over," he whispers in my ear. "Let's dance."

I like being around Gale. He's familiar. In this place crawling with creepy looking people, Gale is someone I know I can trust. So when he pulls me onto the dance floor, I follow.

It's been a very long time since I've danced like this with a boy and it makes my head spin with thoughts of Peeta. He's the first guy that I ever did anything like this. But I don't want to get angry or upset thinking about Peeta when I'm supposed to be having fun. So I look over my shoulder and look up at Gale. He's looking down at me.

And that's when he kisses me.

Or maybe I kiss him. I'm not sure who initiates it. But whoever doesn't keeps it going.

Somehow I end up turned around so my front is pressed right up against Gale's, my arms around his neck.

"Okay?" Gale asks.

Off to our side, I can see Johanna and Thom staring at us. Her eyes are wide. Thom kind of looks angry. I don't understand what's going on. My head is heavy.

"I want to go home."

"Okay," Gale says. "I'll take you back to campus."

He takes my hand as we walk. I don't remove it.

My head is still heavy. It's like all of the alcohol I've consumed has finally hit me at the same time as all of this. I kissed Gale. Or Gale kissed me. Does it matter? We kissed each other.

I've kissed someone besides Peeta.

But Peeta has kissed other people. Hell, I wasn't the first person he slept with either. He had plenty of girlfriends before me and he probably has one now. Stupid Delly Cartwright. He's got to be sleeping with her. He broke up with me to have his fun. Why can't I? Why can't I react when someone actually wants to kiss me?

We head back to the table to grab our coats and we end up getting stopped by Thom. He seems to have magically appeared, Johanna at his side. She raises her eyebrows at me.

"Are you okay?" she asks.

I nod my head. "I just want to head back."

Thom looks me up and down, then he turns back to Gale. "Is this a good idea?"

"It's not like that."

"Bullshit, Gale," he says. "Be fucking smart."

Gale points in Thom's face. "Mind your own business."

Thom holds his hands up. "Fine."

I have no idea what they're talking about. I just want to go to bed. I want to sleep.

Gale and I take a cab back to campus and we're quiet for most of the ride, just listening to the radio. Gale throws a couple bills at the driver and then takes my hand, pulling me out of the car and asks me where I want to go. I shake my head. I don't know. I just don't want to be alone in my dorm when the rest of them get there.

We end up in Gale's room, sitting on his bed, and talking.

"Are you really okay?" he asks.

I move my head. "I'm really drunk."

"Really?" he asks. I turn to him and he's smiling.

"Stop it!" I groan, hitting him in the arm with my hand. I'm not sure it does much. "You're so mean."

We chuckle and I lean back so I'm on his pillow.

"Why did you kiss me?"

He takes in a breath. "I think you kissed me."

"Why did you kiss me back?"

He turns to me so we can make eye contact. He looks scared. I scrabble to a sitting position.

"I told you before," he says. "I want to make you happy. You should feel wanted."

That strikes some sort of nerve. My heart starts to pound. My hands turn clammy. I should go.

I lean up and press my lips to his.

*...*

I wake up alone in Gale's bed.

I'm still in Madge's sheer shirt and my jeans. Although I don't feel super hungover, I don't feel well rested. I glance at the clock on Gale's desk. It's a little before ten in the morning and both boys have left me alone in this room. I hop down off Gale's bed and wander into the hallway. The other two doors are still shut, the rest of their roommates still sleeping. There are voices talking on the lower floor. I'm almost going to ignore them but then I hear Gale speak and I sit down on the top stair to listen.

"You're going to get hurt," Thom says.

"You don't know that."

"She's still not really over that guy yet," I hear Dalton say. So Dalton's up too. "What if she's just rebounding?"

"She's the one that kissed me."

Thom snorts. "Doesn't mean you're not a rebound."

"Why are you being so mean to her?" Gale exclaims. "She's one of your best friends."

"Gale, I love Katniss, I do," Thom says. He sighs. "But seriously...it's not a good idea."

"You and Jo aren't a good idea either and you've been doing this on-off fuck buddy thing since freshman year."

"Yeah, but we're both on the same page!" Thom shouts. Someone makes a shushing sound. His voice comes back quieter. "I just don't want to see you get hurt. You're in it deeper than she is, even if she does have some sort of feelings for you."

I suck in a breath and try to wrap my head around what I'm hearing. Of course Gale has some sort of feelings for me. Now that it's been said, it makes sense. But do I actually want to do this again? And what if I don't? I kissed Gale. And the second time was definitely all me.

Why am I such a mess?

"I know what I'm doing."

When I hear Gale getting out of his chair, I stand up and rush back into his room. I'm still standing, preparing to get back up into his bed when he opens the door.

"Hey, you're up," he says.

"Yeah," I mutter.

"Hungover?"

I wish. "A little."

He reaches down to the box at the end of his bed and passes me a Powerade. I take it and thank him, bringing it to my lips. Anything so I don't have to talk. I'm not good at talking and, to be honest, neither is Gale. We're very similar in that regard.

He hops on his bed and watches me for a minute. I suddenly feel very naked in this shirt and I wrap my arms around my stomach.

Gale is a good looking guy. And drunk actions are sober thoughts, right? That must mean I have some sort of feelings for him – but feelings aren't exactly my forte. I'd like to think I'm not heartless enough to just kiss him at a bar because I'm mad at Peeta, and I know that there's a part of me that likes Gale's company. He's been so good to me this semester even though I blew him off while he was in Paris and he didn't need to be so kind. And, of course, there's that selfish part of me that enjoys the attention he gives me. The same type of one-on-one attention that Peeta used to give. It feels good to be wanted, but are those romantic feelings or just friendly ones? Is there a difference when your friend is a guy?

"So about last night..." Gale starts, but he sort of trails off, leaving me to fill in the rest.

"Yeah."

I don't know what else to say.

"Do you wanna, I don't know, go on a date? Just to see?"

A date's okay, right? I can agree to this now, go on the date, and then maybe it will be really awkward. Or maybe I'll actually enjoy it. Isn't that how things started with Peeta? A drunken kiss, a few dates, and finally the butterflies in my stomach were matched.

"Sure," I say.

*...*

No one is awake yet when I get back to my dorm, which I think it is a good thing. I need time by myself, to think, before I go get brunch with Gale. I figured the date would be some other time, but apparently since it's Sunday he thought it'd be best to do it today rather than wait through the week. Maybe that's a good thing.

I fall onto the couch and press my face into one of the pillows.

I don't want our friendship to get weird if we go on this date and it ends up being terrible. But at the same time, maybe it's what I need. Johanna said I needed to move on. I'm definitely attracted at least a little to Gale, everyone is, the only question is how much and is it enough to justify doing this.

I stand up and walk into my room. Madge is still dead to the world, curled up and snoring slightly. I take out my own more comfortable and casual clothes before removing hers. The sheer shirt gets folded and placed on her desk. Once I'm finished changing, I quietly exit the room and walk into the bathroom to brush my teeth and wash my face. I'm trying to fix the visible bags under my eyes when Johanna and Annie's door opens.

Jo opens the bathroom and looks startled to see me for a split second. "Oh, you're back."

"Yeah," I say. I take another look in the mirror. Now the rest of my face just looks pale.

"Library time?" she asks, grabbing her toothbrush.

I shake my head. "I'm going to that crepe place in Meadow Circle with Gale for brunch."

If she's surprised by it she doesn't show it. She puts the toothbrush in her mouth and brushes while she watches me struggle, her eyebrow raised. Then she spits and hops on the counter.

"Come here. You're a mess," she says, grabbing a washcloth and wiping my face. "Let me help."

"Thanks."

We're quiet for a few minutes as she helps me fix my face so I look semi-presentable and not like I spent all night at a bar. As she's putting some eyeliner on me, she talks.

"So, you and Gale, huh?"

I remember what Gale said about Thom and Jo. They must have been talking last night after Gale and I left the bar.

"Do you think it's a bad idea?"

She hums that she's finished and I open my eyes.

"Do you like him?"

I shrug and start to clean the mess of powder I made on the countertop. "I mean...I don't know. I didn't like Peeta at first either."

Johanna lets out a breath. "This is Gale, not Peeta," she says. "Don't compare them. You won't do yourself any favors."

"I just...I dunno. I think I could like him."

Johanna nods. "Well, the only way to know if the pool's warm is to jump in, right?" I nod. "Just be careful. If you do decide to not do this, let him down gently. Text me if you need help with what to say."

My phone starts vibrating on the counter with an incoming call from Gale. She smirks and jumps down, grabbing her towel and walking toward the shower.

"Have fun," she says. She stops and turns. "Really, Katniss, have fun. Don't let Peeta get you down."

Once she shuts the door behind her, I reach for my phone, sliding the bar and picking it up. "I'm almost done."

"Alright. I'm outside. Come down when you're ready."

I take one more look in the mirror. Johanna worked some magic and I actually look cute rather than like death warmed over. I grab my coat off the couch on my way out and take the elevator to the bottom floor. Gale is in the lobby, leaning against the wall. When he sees me, he stands straighter and as I get closer he holds out his hand.

"Ready to go?" he asks.

I take a deep breath and nod my head, taking his outstretched hand in my own. "Yep."

As much as I worried, it's surprisingly easy to go on the date with Gale. Aside from the handholding and actually going off-campus to eat, it isn't so different from what we do anyway. We talk about our work, about our friends, television. Just nothing. And when it's time to go, instead of splitting it, Gale insists on paying. But, because he paid for the cab last night, I get him to let me leave the tip.

Maybe it's just that I've been starved of affection for the last few months, but when we leave and decide to walk around the little square for a while before heading back, I'm the one that reaches for his hand first. Holding hands was surprisingly something I loved when I was dating Peeta. I never thought I'd be one for too much PDA, but there's something about the action – this small bit of intimacy that isn't over the top. And, although I don't feel the same sorts of butterflies as I did with Peeta, it's not something I dislike with Gale.

So when he asks if we can do this again sometime, I say yes.

*...*

After my brunch date, Johanna is the first to pounce on me, wanting to know how it was. Annie is also eager and Madge listens in, but less so than the others. It looks like she's hard at work on her laptop as I tell them about the date. Johanna seems to think that this is exactly what I need and the other two are just happy that I'm not hiding in closets anymore. It's a stepping stone for me. I'm moving on.

We're all going to a bar on Saturday, the one near campus that a lot of students tend to go to, and I'm the first one ready. I open my laptop and debate checking in to see if Peeta has written anything, but Johanna comes out right as I'm getting ready to type in his blog's URL and I exit out of the tab completely, shutting my laptop and putting it on the couch next to me.

It's a good thing. I don't want to head down that road again.

With the shots we take before hand, and the shots we take with the boys before we head out, I'm not sure I'm going to need any drinks when I get there, so I refrain from getting one. Gale notices and we end up sharing his Jack and Coke, which I don't really like but I like better than hearing him ask me twenty times if I'm sure I don't want anything.

The bar is slimy and gross, a real dive if there ever was one and when everyone decides to hop over to a bar down the road, I grab Gale's hand and tell him I want to go back. There's no argument and instead of following our friends to the subway, we take the shuttle back to campus.

Gale takes me to his place and while he's putting the key into the front door, I lean into him a little. He finally gets the door open and pulls me inside. We drop our coats on the back of a chair before I take his hand and direct him toward the staircase. He follows me obediently.

My mind vanishes as soon as I'm in bed with Gale, my head against his pillow, my arms around his neck, my lips on his. His hands are everywhere that they can reach and the animalistic urges that I remember so well from being with Peeta spring into action. My core is throbbing, my heart is pounding, and I want.

I push him away just enough so I can tug at his shirt. He sits up to pull it off and while he's doing that I yank off my own. Gale's mouth is suddenly everywhere but my lips and I feel that wonderful shiver flood through me. He pushes my bra away and starts sucking on my breast and now I'm panting and squirming.

"Do you have condoms?" I ask.

Gale stops and looks up at me. "You want to have sex tonight?"

That wasn't what I really meant. I was just thinking that we're moving a whole lot faster than I had with Peeta. It had been months before I even had to worry about that, but I suppose the nearly four years of friendship has completely destroyed the need to take it slow with Gale.

Neither of us is new to sex. We've both dated other people. And we've been on a first date already. Aren't those all the rules?

_Peeta has fucked other girls_, the little monster in my heart growls. _He's probably with stupid Delly Cartwright right now._

I nod my head.

Things are different with Gale than they had been with Peeta. Maybe that's because Peeta knew that I had never had sex before, but he was extraordinarily attentive to me, as if his pleasure was second best to mine. Occasionally we fucked, hard and fast, but usually Peeta liked to take his time with me. Gale and I move fast and furiously, as if there is some sort of fire lit beneath us ready to consume our bodies. It's not bad. It's just different. And that's okay.

Like Jo said, comparing them will get me nowhere.

We have sex again, this time without a lot of the urgency of the first and maybe that has to do with the alcohol wearing off, before Gale throws a t-shirt and shorts at me. I guess I'm spending the night. He tells me that there are extra toothbrushes in their hall closet, benefits of Dalton's parents both being dentists, if I want to brush my teeth and I do. I throw on his t-shirt, which hits my knees and probably looks extraordinarily comical, and grab a toothbrush on my way to the bathroom. I clean myself up and then finish getting dressed, brush my teeth, and slosh a little water over my face. While I'm doing that, I hear the door slam downstairs and realize the boys must be home. I quickly dry my face on Gale's t-shirt and try to rush into his room before any of them see me like this, but as I exit the bathroom, I run straight into Thom.

He just steps out of the way, not saying a word but his face showing how unhappy he is to see me, and for a minute I think that might be worse than hearing him tell me off. I'm frozen to my spot and he sighs.

"Go ahead, Katniss," he says, a weird defeated sound to his voice.

When Gale and I wake up early the next morning so we can go to the library together, Thom isn't in his bed. But I can pretty much guess where he is when I go into my room to change into more comfortable clothes than the ones I wore the bar last night. Annie is asleep in my bed and the text she sent last night asking if she could sleep there suddenly makes sense.

Gale calls it musical beds when I tell him on our way out of my dorm. Although I don't voice it, I think it's more of a big fat mess.

*...*

The end of senior year is weird – like a mixture between the administration telling us all to do whatever we want but at the same time insisting that we all do certain things. Our classes don't lighten up their workloads and after spring break, which we spend by going to Johanna's family's timeshare in Florida, Gale and I should have our own MTV show – Extreme Thesising. With the deadline approaching with rapid speed, we're in the library more often than we're anywhere else and, although I can honestly say I never expected to ever have sex in the library...whoops. I'll never be able to look at the hardly used fifth floor stacks again without turning crimson.

It's weird. It's like they don't want us to get any sleep. Between the workload that we still have to do to graduate and all the special events they hold – often with titles that have 'last' in them – it's like a punch in the gut.

And, of course, there's the added pressure of finding a job.

Annie has a job already. She's volunteered at a homeless shelter here for her entire career and they've offered her a paid position now that she's graduating as a caseworker. She's thrilled – it's the type of work that she's always wanted to do – but that just makes us all that much more antsy. Madge's dad is high up in city politics and, if all else fails for her, she at least has those connections to fall back on. Johanna is going back to New York, although she's not entirely sure what she's going to be doing, but she's still keeping her eyes open here as well. They'll all be staying fairly close and I have a few solid interviews at labs here. I could stay here too.

Except Gale gets into his dream law school – Duke, all the way in Durham, North Carolina.

And he wants me to come with him.

In some ways, it makes a whole lot of sense. My family is from the south. He's from the Durham area. It makes more sense to be near our families, right? Rather than staying here in the northeast, we go back to where we're from. And it makes sense that, if we're going to continue a relationship, we should be at least semi-close to each other. It would probably end in disaster if I stayed here and he went there and we could only see each other every so often. There is, of course, that other part of me that doesn't want to let him go somewhere I can't follow because that's what happened to Peeta and look where that ended.

But I'm not sure if I'm ready for that sort of commitment to Gale. Being in a relationship is one thing – moving hundreds of miles away and living together is something else entirely. We've only been dating for a few months – but I know that isn't a valid excuse. Our relationship has moved like a wildfire and even if we've only been dating for a few months we've known each other for years.

I don't give Gale a definitive answer one way or the other. He keeps sending me job listings in the Raleigh-Durham area and I keep looking at ones here as well. I know he's getting frustrated with me, but I just don't know.

With my thesis done and not really a lot of work left for the semester, I finally get a chance to breathe and really think. It's so hard because I worry that if I leave here and head to Durham with Gale, I'm locking myself in. Who's to say this wildfire won't blaze right into an inferno and in five years we're married with a couple of kids. Do I even want that? I sit outside in the warming late April heat, letting the sun shine down on me. I take a few deep breaths and run through the pros and cons. But it doesn't really help. When I decide that I'm going to definitely stay here and let Gale decide what he wants to do about our relationship, I second guess myself. And when I decide that I'll go with him, I wonder about how much I'm going to miss here – with Madge and Annie and Johanna all within driving distance of each other, I'll have to spend an entire day traveling just to see them.

I look at my watch. Prim's out of school by now and I think I need someone who isn't biased to help me figure things out.

"Hey, Katie-Kat!" Prim says. I can almost hear the smile in her voice. God, I miss her so damn much sometimes.

"Hey, Primmy," I say. "Do you got a minute?"

"Anything for you. Hold on just a sec though," she tells me. I hear her say something to someone and then some shuffling. Finally she comes back. "What's up, sissy?"

I let out a breath. "Gale asked me to move to Durham with him."

Prim knows about Gale, although she doesn't know too much. We've talked a few times, but with her busy life – who knew getting a boyfriend would make her so unavailable? – we don't get a chance to talk as much as we used to. But she's been hearing about Gale for years so she hasn't really had to learn anything about him as a person.

"Oh my gosh," she says. "What did you say?"

"Nothing." I groan and cover my face with my elbow. "I don't know what to do."

"Do you mean you don't know what you'll do when you get there or you don't know if you want to go?"

"Gale keeps sending me job descriptions to look at and some of them sound really good," I tell her. "I guess I'm just scared to make a mistake. I don't want to lose him like I lost Peeta."

"It's different, Kat," she says. "It's not like you can't communicate or even visit Gale if you decide not to go. What would you do if you didn't go with him?"

This is why everything became so difficult. "I got a job offer today. Here. I have until Monday to tell them my answer."

I can hear her breathing on the other line, probably deep in thought.

"Have you talked to Gale?"

I shake my head only to realize she can't see me. "No, he's in class right now. I haven't seen him since I got the call. And I wanted to at least kind of have an idea of what I was going to do before I talked to him anyway." I shut my eyes. "Everything is just moving so fast, Prim."

She sighs. "I can't tell you what to do, but I think if you're nervous about declining that job, then you shouldn't be. Everything happens for a reason and if you really want to go with Gale, you should do that and forget about a job you'll leave behind. You'll find another one eventually." She lets out another breath. "But, if you're not sure about Gale, it might be better to take that job and do long distance for a while. Because, who knows, if he's willing to do that for a while you might realize six months down the line that you want to follow him and you can. You can go." She groans. "That probably didn't help you at all."

"I was kind of hoping you'd tell me what to do."

She chuckles once. "No can do, Kat. This is all you. Although, if all things were equal, Durham is closer to me." She giggles before turning serious again. "But don't make your decision based on me. It needs to be about you."

"When did you get so grown up?" I ask.

"It happens every once in a while," she says. "Let me know what you end up deciding."

Once we hang up, I roll over onto my stomach and start picking at the grass. I wonder if this is what Peeta was feeling last year – like your whole life is on the line and if you make one wrong decision you're toast. No one else seems to be having this much trouble around me. This choice should be easy.

Gale knows I'm here in the quad. I sent him a text so he'd know to come after he got out of class. Prim is right. I do need to talk to him. I lean against my hands and watch the walkways become full with people leaving class, a mass exodus it seems of students wanting nothing but to enjoy the finally nice weather. I see Gale before he sees me, walking with a redheaded girl I've seen around – a friend of his from another class or maybe a club.

It is completely irrational, but I start feeling toward her what I felt toward Delly Cartwright – anger and jealousy. And suddenly I'm confronted with that same fear again. The thought of losing Gale the same way I lost Peeta is inexplicably difficult to imagine. If we had grown apart, separated by different interests then sure, but I know that distance invites other girls in. It happened with Peeta and I can't make the same mistake twice.

So when Gale flops down beside me and grins, not knowing anything of what's going on in my head, I lean over and kiss him. He doesn't even need to know about the job offer.

"I'm coming with you," I say. "I decided that I'll come to Durham with you."

He sits up and stares at me, as if for a moment he thinks everything is too good to be true and maybe it is, but I didn't get the chance to follow Peeta and I can't lose this opportunity that I didn't have with him.

"Are you serious?" he asks. When I nod, he grabs my face in his hands and kisses me breathless. "This is...Catnip, this is perfect. I love you so much."

This isn't the first time that Gale has said this to me. He said it last weekend too, when we were in his bed and he was stroking my hair as I was falling asleep after we'd had sex. I pretended not to hear it, that I was already lost to dreamland, and it seemed to work. But I definitely heard it this time. There's no denying that.

I'm not exactly sure if I'm in love with Gale. I told myself after Peeta left me at the airport that I would never fall in love again. But I do love Gale. He's my best friend, my boyfriend, the person that I'm going to be spending huge chunks of time with once we leave college. Of course I love him. But I don't think we love each other the same way.

Thom was right that morning. Gale is in this much deeper than I am and it probably makes me a terrible person for doing all of this with him, but maybe one day I'll get over myself and be able to fall for him the way he has for me. For now he'll just have to understand that I'm not ready to say it back.

So I just smile and say, "I know."

It seems to work for now.

*...*

The day before graduation, Madge's family has a huge party. They live in a huge house, one of those McMansions really with a large lot in the back and a grand exterior with columns. My parents definitely feel a little out of place when I tell them about it and the fact that Madge's family is hosting this party for all of our families. Madge's parents are both only children – or, well, Mrs. Undersee had a twin sister once but she has since passed away – and this party is to get all of our families together for really the first, and probably last, time.

It's also the first time that my parents and the Hawthornes will be interacting.

To say that I'm terrified is an understatement.

I only met Peeta's parents once and, by that point, we weren't really together anymore. My parents never interacted with them, or him either. Our relationship was solely between us. I've met the Hawthornes before. They've taken me to dinner in the past when they visited, before Gale and I even thought about getting together, and I suddenly find it very hard to look Mrs. Hawthorne in the eye knowing everything that I've done with her son. But Gale has never met my parents before – they only brought me to school freshman year and the rest of the time I've traveled alone.

Although, the fact that he's swayed me into living in a city that is five hours away rather than twelve or thirteen has given him something of an edge for them. Besides, I think after what happened with Peeta, my parents are thrilled to hear I've found a good southern boy rather than a rascal from New Jersey who jetted away and broke my heart.

Prim is a great buffer though. She knows exactly what to say to merge our very different families.

For a moment, I think that this can work. This can be good. Gale has his arm around me, talking amicably with my parents. Prim is telling Gale's little sister about that stupid cat. And we're all mingling and it's all good until Prim waves her hand in the air, gesturing to me while she tells Posy about how I locked Buttercup outside during a rainstorm once, when I notice the glint of sparkle on her hand.

I grab it instantly, roll out of Gale's grip, and say, "I need to talk to you for a minute."

Once we're off to the side of the yard, I stop and turn back toward her. "What is that?" I demand, keeping my hand on her wrist and looking closer at the small diamond on her hand.

"Mom made me swear not to say anything until after you graduated," Prim says. "This is about you."

"Well that's too bad because I already saw it," I say. "What did you do?"

She glares at me. "I said yes," she says. "I'm marrying Harvey."

It's like my entire world crashes down.

"You're marrying Goat Man Jr.?" She squeals in disgust at my nickname but I don't pay her any attention. "You're not even eighteen yet! Prim, what are you doing?"

"For the record, I'm turning eighteen in five weeks. But does that really matter? Kat, I'm following my heart."

"What about college?"

"I don't want to go to college," she says. "I'm not like you. I want to stay in town and get married and have kids and be like mom was. That's what I want."

I lean against Madge's fence and put my head in my hands. It shouldn't surprise me as much as it does. Most people that I went to high school with are married with kids. It's really not that unusual for the town we live in. But after going to school for four years here and being surrounded by twenty-one and twenty-two years olds who aren't married or even thinking about it makes Prim seem so young.

And maybe it's because I can't imagine being married right now. I can barely imagine what life with Gale will be like when we leave for Durham. And knowing that Prim is getting ready to take this step makes me wonder if there's something wrong with me.

Because, when I look back at Gale and see him talking to my parents, I'm not sure I even want to get married. To Gale or to anyone.

* * *

**Notes**

Chapter title taken from "Waiting for Superman" by Daughtry

The episode of _The Office_ that Katniss is watching the day before Thanksgiving is "Safety Training" (Season 3, Episode 20)

The episode of _Friends_ where Joey gets his head stuck in a turkey is "The One with All the Thanksgivings" or Season 5 Episode 8. This is the episode Katniss and Gale are watching when he comes to her dorm.

"They're just worried about how you're handling everything...like I am" said by Gale and Katniss's response, "I'll survive" is slightly reworded from this section in Mockingjay, after Katniss returns from visiting District 12: "...They'll mostly be worried about how you're handling it." Gale touches my cheek. "Like I am." I press my face against his hand for a moment. "I'll survive." – it is on page 19, in Chapter 2, of the US Scholastic hardcover.

_The Notebook_ is, of course, by Nicholas Sparks and the movie, released in 2004, stars Ryan Gosling, Rachel McAdams, Gena Rowlands, James Garner, Sam Shepard, Joan Allen, and James Marsden. I had included this scene well before hearing of James Garner's death on Saturday. He was such an amazing actor. RIP.

My first time to a bar was very similar to Katniss's, minus the whole Gale part. My friend bought me an Amaretto Sour to start me off and it became my go-to bar drink for the rest of the year and there were two very pretty boys.

Meet the new Lady...his name is Harvey and he's not a goat, however Katniss will continue to refer to him as Goat Man Jr.

Thank you as always to Swishy for prereading and giving me the courage to post it. I know many of you will not be happy with this chapter, but I'll tell you what I told her. Peeta is coming, keep the faith and hopefully the reward will be worth it.


	4. Chapter 4

**04****: ****It's sad but sometimes moving on with the rest of your life**** s****tarts with goodbye.**

My father openly sobs when he walks Prim down the aisle. She's a vision – and she better be after the big fuss she put up while trying to find the perfect gown. She found it after trying on at least twenty or thirty dresses and when she did our mother started bawling. She's beautiful in it. It's pure white with a spaghetti strap lace bodice and empire waist. It has a sash with a huge floppy flower on it and it flows out elegantly like the ball gown my sister wanted so badly and thought, for sure, would be out of budget. I'm proud of her for that – she saved up all the money she made while working at her part-time job as a cashier for this dress so it's entirely hers.

I still think she's too young.

And that's probably why I'm not her maid of honor.

It makes sense. With me all the way in another state, planning with me would have made things a whole lot more difficult for Prim. They didn't need much in terms of planning – Harvey's dad was marrying them at the church where he preaches and, just as many of the weddings in town are, it's a potluck style reception. It's not anything fancy by any means and Prim even decided to wear her cowboy boots down the aisle.

I guess it just hurts to know that Prim no longer needs me. Then again, she never really has. She was always the social butterfly that was confident in who she was and what she wanted.

She and Goat Man Jr. seal their union with a kiss and everyone claps. I grit my teeth. I'm not entirely sure what I'm feeling. Is it jealousy? There's certainly some of that. How did Prim know so quickly? I fell that hard and that fast for Peeta and yet that went south just as quickly as it started. Maybe I'm just scared for her – scared that she's rushing into this too fast because I know what can happen. But neither Prim nor her new husband wants to leave town. They want to stay here forever, have their little brood, and ultimately grow old together sitting in matching lawn chairs.

Once I'm successfully back down the aisle, I follow my sister and the rest of her bridal party to take pictures together while the rest of the guests mingle under the white tent canopy they're using for their outdoor reception.

And finally, after what must be a million photographs, it's time to move inside and once there I make a beeline for Gale.

This may be my worst nightmare – surrounded by all my former classmates and feeling them watching me. Most of them are married. A few of them are in various stages of pregnancy. They probably aren't judging me – they are here for Prim after all – but I feel like they are. I tuck myself into Gale's side and try to hide. I have never been so thankful for his presence.

"This is nice," he says as we watch Prim dance with her husband for the first time.

"Are you kidding? This is torture."

He wraps his arms around my shoulders and puts his lips to my ear. "I didn't mean this exactly," he tells me. "I know the whole wedding makes you uncomfortable, but this is our first big event together, well, our first big adult one."

He's right. This is the first big non-school event that we've gone to as a couple.

I spin around in his arms and press my head to his chest, my forehead resting on the soft silk of his tie. "Is it too soon to leave?" I mumble.

His laugher makes his chest shake. "Maybe just a little," he says. Then he pulls me out to join my sister. "Come on, let's dance. It'll make it go quicker."

We stay until it is the least socially unacceptable for the sister of the bride to make her getaway, feigning exhaustion and needing to drive to North Carolina tomorrow. Prim understands and I think she's having too much fun with her friends to even care. I give her a hug and then I take Gale's hand. We all but sprint to his car.

The house is empty when we arrive, my parents still at the wedding even though it's getting late. Buttercup is the only soul home and he seems to be hiding – just as unhappy as I am that Prim will not be spending the night here, or any night here for the rest of her life. I am, however, glad that I won't have to share Prim's bed again tonight and instead will have it to myself after my parents insisted I relinquish my own room and bed to Gale when we drove up yesterday.

In some ways, I think I knew that my parents would make us sleep in separate beds, but in other ways it just makes me laugh. We live together – do they really expect us to be sleeping in separate beds in a one-bedroom apartment? I think they might just be in denial. I know Prim was surprised last night when she found out during our pillow talk that I wasn't a virgin. I guess I've done a better job of hiding that aspect of my life than I thought I had.

But, nonetheless, my parents have insisted that Gale take my room while I sleep in Prim's and since it's their house it's their rules. That's fine by me. My head feels full and cloudy tonight anyway.

I lead Gale up the stairs and press my lips to his. "See you in the morning," I say.

"Sweet dreams."

Then I turn around and walk into my sister's room.

A lot of her stuff is gone. All of her clothes and things of that nature are already at the small place where they're staying. It's all the trivial stuff that's left – awards, some stuffed animals, old CD cases. It doesn't even feel like Prim's room anymore. Maybe mine feels the same way.

I reach down and pull out an old stuffed dog that Prim still has. She used to carry the thing everywhere and it's so worn with her love that it's falling apart despite my mother's attempts at saving it. The stuffing is nearly gone from certain sections of its body and one of its ears is made of completely different fabric. I wrap it in my arms and curl up in the fetal position on top of Prim's comforter.

After graduation, I went home for a few weeks to gather things I wanted to take with me to Durham and be there when Prim went dress shopping. I thought that it would make leaving easier, rather than going with Gale directly from graduation, but it actually made it a whole lot worse. I didn't miss the town – it was my family. I had forgotten how hard it was to leave them and go to somewhere I had no familiarity with, like I had when I started college. Like four years ago, this was an entirely new terrain.

My parents weren't too keen on the idea of Gale and I living together without being married, or at the very least engaged. My father was more vocal about that than my mother and it almost made me change my mind. But then Gale kept texting me while I was home, telling me about how excited he was that I was going to be arriving soon and how much he missed me. I felt that same familiar tug in my stomach that I had in the weeks before Peeta left for Ecuador, except in hindsight all of Peeta's messages were clearly pulling away from me while Gale's were reeling me in.

And it felt so good to be wanted.

I think that's what did my mother in. I still remember the conversation we had the night before my dad didn't bring up my future living arrangements at the dinner table for the first time.

I was sitting on my bed, having just gotten off the phone with Gale as he told me everything he wanted to show me once I got to Durham, when she knocked. I looked up and smiled at her and she came in and sat down on the edge of the bed, walking over a cardboard box that was half full of stuff on the floor.

"That's a big smile," she said, reaching over to press her thumb to the corner of my mouth playfully. "It's good to see you happy again."

I nodded my head.

"Gale's a good boy too, huh? You've been friends a while, like Prim and Harvey."

"They've been friends for a while?" I asked.

She shrugged. "Same friend group. Once you left she started hanging out with him more. It wasn't anything serious until this school year."

"I didn't know."

"You didn't ask." She looked around the room. "You nervous about living in a place you never been?"

I shook my head. I wasn't. Durham wasn't the scary part. "I've done it before."

"Yes you have." She leaned forward and pressed her lips to my forehead. "Now, I know your daddy and I haven't been too enthusiastic about this move, but if it's what you want to do, we'll support you one hundred percent, just like we always have. You just follow that heart of yours okay?"

"I will."

"And your room will always be here if you need it," she said. She stood up and walked toward the door, stopping only once to turn around. "You're sure this is what you want to do?"

"Yeah."

Then she smiled and my dad didn't say another word for the rest of the time I was home.

Gale offered to drive to my house to pick me up and then drive back, but my dad decided it would be a wonderful way to get to know him a little better if he came earlier in the day and we left the next. I spent the night with Prim in her room while Gale got mine and after dinner my dad took Gale for a walk. When they got back, Gale didn't even stop in to kiss me goodnight, just knocked on Prim's door and stuck his head in to say it verbally.

The next day we left a little after lunch and this is the first time I've been back since.

I squeeze Prim's old stuffed dog and look up at the ceiling. I don't miss living in this town and even if I were extremely unhappy in Durham I probably wouldn't take my mother up on her offer. But there are times when I do wonder what it would have been like if I had taken Prim's advice of accepting the job near school and waiting six months before following Gale, but that's only when I notice Madge and Annie doing something together. They both still live in the city and now that they both have jobs they're planning on moving in together. Jo lives within driving distance of them in New York, so over the last five months they've all gotten together a few times.

I do miss them, but I've never needed to be surrounded by a ton of people. I have Gale. I can text and call them if I want.

I'm following Gale. That's the decision I made because, if this relationship ends, it's on my terms this time.

...

Finding a job is really hard. I knew that from when I was looking the first time, but now with the added pressure of a rent, it made it even more stressful. Gale had his summer job of lifeguarding at a pool and the promise of tutoring the LSATs once school started. I picked up a job at a grocery store so we could save up some money while I looked for another one. Mrs. Hawthorne insisted that we stay in their basement apartment while we saved up some money so we'd be at least a little stable financially before we went out on our own. Gale didn't like it – he wanted his own place – but it was practical enough for me to agree, especially since he wouldn't really be bringing in much money once he started school and I still didn't have a job that would be enough to pay the bills.

Gale's father said that he'd pay for his living expenses – it was part of their deal. Mr. Hawthorne is also a lawyer who wants Gale, and Rory and Vick as well, to follow in his footsteps. Gale had always wanted to go to Duke because that's his father's alma mater and when he got in, Mr. Hawthorne said that, while the schooling was on Gale because he paid for his undergrad, he'd pay Gale's living expenses while he was in law school _if_ he went to Duke. And, of course, I had no idea this was going on until Gale took me to visit an apartment that was way out of _our_ budget, but one that his parents had mentioned might be a good fit.

"Don't worry about it, Catnip," Gale had said. "My dad'll get it all until you have a job. He basically conned us into coming down here anyway."

Conned _us_, huh?

This place was like a palace with oversized walk-in closets, crown moulding in every room, a private balcony, high ceilings and all the fixings. On top of that, the amenities – like the resort-style swimming pool and the lighted tennis court – made me a little woozy. I kept a smile plastered to my face while Gale showed me around and tried to remind myself that this wasn't him showing off how much wealthier his family is than mine. It was just his lifestyle, a lifestyle shared by many at school and one that I had gotten used to hearing about.

So, when Gale turned to me, clearly very excited about it, I couldn't really say no, especially considering I had no way of funding it at the moment. I walked out feeling sick to my stomach. Everything I had ever done in my life was because I worked for it – my scholarships, my grades, my everything – and here I was accepting handouts. I hated it.

Gale could let his father pay his half, but I wanted to pay mine. I pretty much didn't sleep for a month because any free time I had was going toward creating cover letters and sending resumes.

I don't limit myself. If it's a job, I probably applied for it. I worked really hard on my thesis and I graduated summa cum laude, so hopefully that helps me at least a little. After weeks and weeks of waiting, hoping, and being persistent, I finally get a few call backs and interviews and, after Prim's wedding, one of them actually results in a second interview with the person I'd be working under. When I get there, I'm taken right down to the lab of Dr. Haymitch Abernathy, the man who will hopefully become my boss. When the woman drops me off at his door, he doesn't even look up from what he's doing, working with a pipette and petri dish. He talks as he works.

"So, what makes you so special?"

I had looked up plenty of interview questions, but I had never thought they'd be asked with such gruff displeasure. It's as if he doesn't even like me already.

"I, uh, I graduated–"

"I know," he says, finally looking up. "I read your resume and I looked over your transcript. Impressive, but I've got seven other impressive kids banging down my door for this job and most of them are local kids from schools that I work with on a regular basis. So what makes you so special that I should even waste my breath and time even talking to you?"

I glare at him. If I weren't so desperate, I'd turn around and walk right out. Isn't this some form of harassment? Hazing? Or just plain lack of professionalism?

He shakes his head and turns back to what he's doing. His form is terrible. He lifts the lid of the petri dish completely off before doing his pipetting. That's, like, number one of the intro lab don't list.

"You're doing it wrong."

He turns back to me and slams the cover back on. Well, if it wasn't already contaminated, that is sure going to skew the results.

"What?" he growls.

"That's a good way to contaminate your specimen," I say. I figure, if I'm not getting this job anyway, what the hell? At least it will make me feel good to put this asshole in his place. "And slamming the cover back on it probably just ruined the whole thing."

He sets his pipette down and stands, crossing his arms. "You're overcooking my grits, kid," he hisses. "I've been doing this for twenty-five years. That's longer than you've probably been alive."

I shrug. "Well, then, maybe you need a refresher." He glares at me and doesn't say anything. "I'll walk myself out."

How To Not Get A Job, a novel by Katniss Everdeen.

"Kid."

I turn around and see his head poking out the door into the hallway. He motions for me to come back and I do, ready for the snarky comeback, the 'you'll never get a job in this town' speech, something along those lines.

Instead, he sits down in his chair and smirks. "I like you. I like your spunk," he says. "You're the only one I've interviewed that's corrected me on my methods."

"That's your interview strategy?" I ask. "Screw up your project just to see if the person will say something."

"You think I'm really that big of an idiot?" He smirks and holds up his pipette. "This is water."

Is he being serious? This was all one huge game to see how I'd respond?

"I don't want some kid in here looking at me like I'm God Almighty," he continues with a shrug. "Now, I'm supposed to get in at eight, I usually get in around nine. As long as you're here before me, you ain't late. And tell Effie on your way out that she can cancel the interviews tomorrow."

"I have the job?" I ask.

He points to the door. "Now get out of my face before I change my mind."

...

Our school's football team comes down to play NC State in early November and my friends use that as an excuse to come down. After work the Friday before the game I head to the airport to pick them up. I'm excited to see them. It's been months since we've seen each other in person, the last time being at graduation. Well, at least all of us at the same time.

I see pictures of them hanging out together on Facebook and we text. I know Madge and Annie hang out a lot together and now that Madge has a job they're looking into apartment hunting together. Johanna's not too far away so they've seen her a handful of times already. I miss just having them around and I wonder if I'll ever make friends like them again or if I'm always just going to be Gale's girlfriend down here.

It only takes a little more than ten minutes to get to the airport from my work so I stay at work for about a half hour extra, just using the computer so I don't have to circle the terminals while waiting for them. Madge said she'd text me when the plane landed and I'd head over then.

"Overtime on a Friday?"

I look up and shake my head. Darius McAvoy is another one of Haymitch's research assistants that works with me. We hit it off one day while I'm complaining about Haymitch actually. He's a tall lumbering goofy redhead and when he puts on flannel on casual Fridays he looks like a cross between Ariel and a lumberjack. But he's a total sweetheart.

He's older than me at twenty-nine and he's constantly complaining that all his friends are married and having babies while he can't manage to get a girlfriend. So whenever our little group goes to get a drink after work on a Friday, he insists on making me his wingman. Gale hates him. He thinks Darius is attracted to me and using me as his wingman to butter me up, but I know that isn't true. Darius has a type – the quintessential 'southern belle' – and he very rarely strays from it. I'm about as far from that as anyone.

"No, just waiting here until my friends' flight lands."

He nods in understanding and takes a perch on the side of my desk. "Oh yeah I forgot you mentioned that they were coming," he says. "If you need somewhere to take them let me know. I'd be thrilled to help you give them a tour of the good stuff – considering the first thing you're showing them is NC State. Katniss, you're killing me!"

Darius went to UNC. I didn't realize there was such a rivalry between Duke, UNC, and NC State until I moved here.

There's a buzzing on my desk and I pick up my phone.

_Madge Undersee [Sent 5:51pm]: We just stopped at the gate so it will take us a few minutes to get off and then get our luggage but we're here! I'll text you when we find Jo_

I send her a quick text to let her know I'm on my way and then start shutting down my computer. Johanna flew from New York while Madge and Annie flew together – it made more sense for Jo to fly by herself than for her drive all the way to them so they could fly together. Her flight got in a little after five and she said she was just going to do some people watching in the airport while she waited.

"That them?" Darius asks. I nod. "Here, I'll walk you out."

"Thanks."

Darius has been a good friend to me in the last few weeks. I enjoy his company in the lab and we get along well. It's nice to have that – a friend who is mine and not Gale's. That's always been hard for me, the whole friend thing, so to know that we clicked quickly has been a good comfort.

We walk out to our cars together and Darius tells me to have a good weekend with the girls – sure to add in that if we need plans to keep him updated. I tell him that I'll keep it in mind and then start my drive to the airport. My phone buzzes just before I drive out of the lot and I take a quick glance at the preview. Madge and Annie have found Johanna and they're in terminal two waiting for their luggage.

I'm lucky to have them. It's a long trip for only a few days, but they insisted on making the trip even when I balked at the expensive weekend.

I pull up to the curb and don't see them, so I get out of my car and walk around to pop the trunk and then wait for them to come out. They walk out in a trio, Madge animatedly telling a story with her free hand waving in the air until she sees me and then forgets about it entirely, changing to wave at me.

"Katniss!"

It seems to only take them a few seconds to walk to me and suddenly I'm surrounded in a group hug and all of them talking at the same time. It makes me laugh. I knew I had missed them but I hadn't realized to what extent until I had them back here with me.

"It's such nice weather," Madge says as we put our luggage into the trunk. "It's freezing back home – record lows."

"Yeah, I wouldn't be surprised if we get snow for Thanksgiving," Annie adds as Madge and Johanna go to take the back seat of my car. She wraps her arms around my shoulders once we pull the trunk closed. "It's so good to see you."

"I know. I missed all of you," I say.

She gives me a once over with her eyes as she pulls away. "You're okay down here?"

I nod. "I think I've adjusted now."

"And Gale? Is that good?"

I nod again.

I'm fairly sure she's ready to ask me another question, but Johanna's voice carries out from the car. "Hey, Brainless, are we spending the whole weekend at the airport?"

We both quickly leap into the car and I pull out from the curb. All three of them are talking at the same time – asking about what I'm going to show them and what my favorite parts have been and how work is going. It's exhausting to say the least to follow their conversation and drive at the same time. I just sort of nod my head and answer questions that pop out to me.

"Snazzy complex, Everdeen," Johanna says when we park at the apartment.

I nod my head. "Yeah, it's pretty nice."

Gale only had an early class today so when we walk in he's just about finished cooking dinner. While I wouldn't call Gale the best cook I've ever met, he can do well with steaks and burgers. Unfortunately for him Madge is vegetarian so his plan of just throwing burgers on the grill we have on the balcony was axed. I laid out a detailed list of instructions for him to make a black bean burger salad that I remember Madge making a lot in college – which shouldn't be that difficult but – and I hope it all worked out.

"Hey ladies," Gale says, leaning against the doorframe that leads into the kitchen.

"Everything all set?" I ask, because honestly I don't know what we're going to do besides eat out if he messed this up.

He chuckles. "I didn't burn it if that's what you're asking."

Johanna chuckles and pats my back as she tosses her bag into the living area where we've laid out air mattresses and the pullout sofa for them to sleep on. "Look at the two of you being all domesticated."

While Gale laughs, tossing the cloth in his hands over his shoulder as he shows Annie and Johanna around the kitchen, I let out a breath.

Madge gives me a look. "You okay?"

I nod my head but I can't get my stomach to stop clenching.

"You sure?"

I nod again. This is what I should want. It's what Prim has. It's what my friends always complained about not having in school. Everyone wanted this. It makes me feel like a failure to be so hesitant. So I swallow the feeling and pull Madge into the kitchen so she can get the tour from Gale.

...

The next few months pass quickly and slowly all at the same time.

The set up Gale and I create becomes a comfortable norm. But like any couple living together for the first time, we drive each other crazy the first month or so with our different habits. Like how, for someone who claims he was the star center on his high school basketball team he can't manage to get any of his clothes actually _in_ the hamper. Apparently I hog the covers.

But we manage.

Between my job and Gale's studying and tutoring, we're both gone a lot during the week. He'll make dinner and, depending on his workload, we'll watch the new episode of whatever show is on that day of the week. On the weekends we go exploring. Some of his high school friends are still in the area so we'll meet them at a bar or restaurant some days, other times we'll go on our own. We learn some good running routes and do that together. It's really nice having the entire place to ourselves too because we no longer have to worry about roommates accidentally walking in on us.

But, as much as I don't miss worrying about if Madge needed to get into the room, I do miss her. And Johanna and Annie too.

After we've been settled and adjusted for a while Gale starts in again with the 'I love you' whispers and I know he wants me to say it back. But I just can't do it. There must be something wrong with me. There's only so long that Gale will tolerate me not saying anything back that I know I need to say something. But those words seem a little too heavy on my tongue.

One night, after we've had sex and are cuddling in bed, he does it. He kisses my nose and looks straight into my eyes so I can't fake sleep and says it, loud and clear. There's no mistaking it.

My heart is pounding and that's a good thing right?

"Me too," I say.

It's the first time that I've even acknowledged my own feelings and even though I haven't actually said the words, this is fine enough for Gale at this point. Maybe this isn't so bad. I can do this. I do love Gale. I'm living with him and that was my choice. The words are just hard for me because I never wanted to fall in love again and yet here I am.

It's funny how quickly time can fly. In no time at all, we've been living together for seven months and we've been together for a year. A year seems like such a long time but I feel like it's been hardly any time at all. When I come home from work, Gale has flowers waiting for me on the table and he makes my favorite things for dinner after he comes back from his tutoring session. We have a really good night watching crappy reality television before moving to our bed.

But, if that night felt like a fairytale, that's because the next weekend is when we have the biggest fight we've ever had.

Gale and I fight. It's healthy fighting most of the time and when we argue eventually we'll come to terms with it. We've always fought, even as friends, it's just our personalities. We butt heads on a lot of things but for this fight I know I'm almost entirely in the wrong. I knew I wouldn't be able to avoid saying the words forever without Gale getting upset.

It's a Saturday night and we're sitting on the couch watching a movie when Gale moves a little so he can have access to my neck, feathering kisses under my jaw and down my throat. And it's great because the movie is boring and I'm fairly sure I know where this is headed – we keep condoms in the side table for the sole reason that this has happened before. I go for the buttons on his shirt and am surprised when he stills my fingers.

"I love you," he says, continuing to suck on collarbone.

"I know," I say. "I do too."

He falls backwards against the couch cushions and puts his hands over his face. "Then why don't you ever say it back?"

I stand immediately, feeling like I need to get up. I wrap my arms around myself and don't know what to tell him so I don't say anything at all and I think that might be worse than the truth.

He moves his hands and his face is a mixture of extreme sadness and red-faced anger.

"We've been together for over a year now and you've never said it back," he says. "Do you love me back or are you just here?"

"You know how I feel about you."

"That's just it, Katniss. I don't know because you never say it!"

I bite my lip. "You know words aren't my thing."

"That's not an excuse!" he shouts. "I need to know where I stand with you. I just need to know what's going on in your head!"

When I don't say anything, he shakes his head and gets up, storming off into our room. I follow behind him just a second too late and the door slams in my face. My stomach flops and I knock gently on the door.

"Gale?"

He doesn't answer. I lean my forehead against the wood and knock again.

"Gale? I'm sorry. I just..." I let out a breath and sit down with my back against the door. I don't know if he can even hear me through the door, but I talk anyway. Gale's the only person I really have in this city and I can't have him mad at me. "I told myself, when I left Peeta at the airport, that I was never going to fall in love again and I think that's why the words are so hard. I'm sorry that I'm such a mess. I don't mean to hurt you it's just the way I am."

After a while of silence between us, I curl up in the fetal position outside the doorway. I'm coming in and out of consciousness when the door opens and I hear Gale's sigh. He lifts me up in his arms and carries me to bed, setting me gently down on my side.

"Gale?"

"Shh," he says. "Not tonight, okay?"

I nod my head and fall back to sleep.

The next morning Gale is awake before me. His side of the bed is empty and I can smell coffee floating in from the kitchen. I roll out of bed and stumble into the main living area where he's sitting on the couch, watching a random show on television but not really watching it. When he hears me, he turns and pats the couch beside him. I hesitate before sitting down.

"I don't want to ruin what we have," he says. "Peeta messed you up and I hate him because of what he's done to you, so I'm not going to force you to say anything right now. Just tell me that you can get there one day and we can work on getting you there."

I nod my head and reach for his free hand giving it a squeeze. He squeezes back.

...

Haymitch, for all his flaws, is actually a very good mentor.

I guess I should probably call him Dr. Abernathy. Most people in the lab call him that, but he wants me to call him Haymitch. Darius does too so I don't feel like it's such a bad thing for me to do. He's a good boss, especially for someone fresh out of school like me. He insists on eating lunch with each of his employees once a week. My day is Wednesdays.

Each Wednesday he'll pull me into his office. At first I found it hard to open up to him. Why would he want to take such interest in me? Was it because I was so young and he didn't trust me? But as time went on it became fairly obvious that the prickly exterior is just that – an exterior. I think he truly cares about the people who work for him.

Now that I've been working for him for a while I've given up more information to him. He knows that I live with Gale and sometimes I'll use him to vent. He knows about Prim and my family and how even though I don't want to live there anymore I do get homesick for them.

It's a Wednesday in late spring, a week or two after my big blow out with Gale, and we're both sitting in his office eating a bowl of pasta salad that he brought – and swears he didn't make even though I know he did – when he asks me about my goals. He asked me about them once in the beginning, when I was still wary of his questions, and I answered with something vague. Now I just shrug.

"I'm not exactly sure," I say.

He nods and shovels another forkful into his mouth. "I was surprised when a few weeks in you didn't ask for med school references."

I shake my head. "I wouldn't be a good doctor."

"Well, I figured that out."

I glare at him but not too hard because it's true. He knows how I get around blood. I managed to slice my hand on broken glass one day and just about fainted. I am much more suited to the life of the lab than anything with any actual patient interaction.

"Have you thought about going back to school?" he asks.

"Is this your subtle way of telling me to get lost?"

He nods his head pretending to be serious but I know he's not. When I roll my eyes he snorts. "I've never seen anyone roll her eyes more than you do," he says. I roll them again just to spite him. "But in all seriousness, I'm thrilled to hear that you like your job but have you thought about the future at all? Because it would be a shame for someone like you to be stuck in an entry level position like this for the rest of your life just because you got comfortable."

That word comfortable really resonates with me. I am a creature of habit and if I know I'm going to be okay I'm just going to continue doing the same thing so I could see myself following the life that Haymitch is all but laying out for me. If I'm stable, I'm very likely to continue what I'm doing. Don't fix what isn't broken right?

I shrug. "I guess I haven't thought about it since I got here."

"Well, you don't need to have it always planned out," Haymitch says with shrug. "Hell, I barely want to know what I want to do when I grow up. But you should always be thinking."

And then before we can talk about it anymore he's onto something else.

...

It not so slowly encroaches on a year since Gale and I moved in together and it comes time to sign another lease. He starts his second year of law school and I'm almost a year into my job in the lab. It doesn't seem like it's been a year. How has it been a year? Wasn't I just watching Prim walk down the aisle? She's been married for eleven months now.

Peeta is back in the US.

Or at least I think he is. I'm no longer friends with him on Facebook so I can't really spy too much. I can only assume he's back home and maybe he brought his little girlfriend back with him. Or maybe those dumb do-gooders stayed there all happily ever after. I don't really care.

Maybe he married her. I don't care. If he's happy, good for him. I'm happy too most of the time. There are moments when Gale bugs me but that happens in every relationship. When I was with Peeta there were moments when we didn't agree. It just means that the honeymoon phase is over and we're comfortable being ourselves with each other.

Most days I don't think about Peeta. Occasionally things will remind me of him – songs that pop up when I shuffle through my iTunes library, when I pass his name in my contacts on my phone – something that I should have gotten rid of long ago when I knew the Mellarks shut off his phone because he surely won't have the same number still. So I really don't think about him too much. I have other things to think about.

Like the fact that people are starting to look at me as the one to walk the aisle next.

Gale insists that we host Thanksgiving this year for our families in our apartment that's not nearly big enough for everyone. But when I let it slip to Prim one day that Gale wants to host Thanksgiving she cuts me off before I can tell her that I don't want to by exclaiming that it's the perfect excuse for her and Harvey to travel to Durham. She still hasn't come and she's been wanting to visit for awhile so without even meaning to I end up inviting her and, by extension, my parents. Gale is thrilled when he comes home and I tell him about my accidental invitation. I try not to let my frustration show.

Thanksgiving is just as miserable as I figured it would be. With both my mother and Gale's mother barging into our kitchen to help out I barely have space to breathe. It doesn't help that while I feel like I'm drowning everyone else seems to be getting along like they've known each other for years. Prim and Harvey sit with Gale's brothers. Posy keeps trying to sneak into the kitchen to help and finally Mrs. Hawthorne banishes Gale to keep her distracted so that the three of us can cook – great. It was Gale's dumb idea and now he's watching the Macy's parade with Posy while talking football with our fathers.

I want to pull my hair out.

My mother knows that I'm no chef and tells me to take a minute out on the balcony. I take it eagerly, nearly sprinting out of the kitchen and outside. It's a nice day, not too chilly, and I'm boiling from being in the kitchen for so long so the cooler breeze is a welcomed blessing for me. I'm just about ready to fall asleep when I hear my sister – my sister of all people – ask Gale, "So when are you going to put a ring on it?"

I stuff my fingers in my ear, almost afraid to hear Gale's answer. I don't want to think about weddings or proposals. Gale knows how I feel about that. We're not ready. I'm not ready. And he has no right answering that question but I know he will because he's Gale.

So I keep my fingers in my ears until I figure they've moved on to another topic and hopefully one that doesn't include me.

The actual dinner is good, probably because our mothers ended up doing most of it. It's probably a good thing. My head is so scattered brained I'd find a way to ruin it somehow. I'm quiet at dinner but luckily the rest of them are loud enough that my voice isn't missed too much. I'm quiet by nature anyway.

While everyone talks in the living room, I want to go to bed. I want to get away from it all but I know I'd get called out by my parents in the morning for being rude – even if I'm an adult and this is my apartment. So instead I just curl up into Gale and press my face into his side. It's a suitable hiding spot and at least if I'm still out here I can safely assume that they won't talk about me.

Is this how Prim felt last year when everyone was expecting her to get engaged? Did she feel the world was getting smaller? Did it make her question her choices? Did it make her wonder what her life would have been like if she had said something different somewhere along the way – yes I'll take that job, yes let's try the long distance thing for a little bit. Did she think about her former flames – or crushes considering I don't think Prim dated anyone besides Goat Man Jr.?

Did she? Because that's what I'm doing.

I've never thought about Peeta more than in the few days after Thanksgiving. One day when Gale is at the library starting to study for his finals I log onto Facebook and go to his page just to see. He's still pretty private so I can't really see much – just his information and his current profile and cover photos.

_**Peeta Mellark  
**__Studied at Panem City University  
__Past: Bishop Snow Preparatory High School  
__Lives in Guayaquil, Ecuador  
__From Victor's Village, New Jersey_

His cover photo is from Ecuador it looks like. He hasn't update his information since returning home it seems because he's clearly home. His profile picture is of him and Finnick. I can click on it and see that he's written _reunited and it feels so good_ as the description.

That's when I get an idea. I click on Finnick.

When Johanna defriended Peeta for me on Facebook, she had just hidden Finnick from my newsfeed. I figured it was because we still semi-talked to him and she didn't want to make it awkward for Annie who was still pretty good friends with him. As luck would have it, Finnick didn't defriend me and we're still mutuals. I take a deep breath and start to search.

I start with his cover photos and that turns out to be a good place to start. The third one in is from early August and it's a picture that someone must have taken at the airport. At the far right, Finnick and Peeta are embracing and across the picture the rest of their roommates are running behind to catch up. It seems that they all met him at the airport, which, based off a sign in the picture, seems to be Newark. A few of his profile pictures feature Peeta as well and there's some correspondence between them on his wall – a few shared links, quizzes, inside jokes.

Peeta looks really good. He has a little bit of scruff but not too much for his face – just enough to make him more handsome than he already is. His eyes are still wildly blue.

It just makes me miss him. Even if we had to move on from our relationship, I would give anything to have his friendship.

I log off and shut my laptop. I am in a relationship with Gale. That should be enough.

After that, I don't check Facebook again unless I get an email alert with notifications that I'm directly involved in.

...

Prim calls me in February and tells me that I'm going to be an aunt.

"W-what?" I splutter. "Prim, are you serious?"

"Ugh, waiting until the first trimester was over to tell people was agonizing, Kat," she says. "I almost told you like five hundred times. Isn't it so exciting? We only started really trying after our first anniversary–"

"TMI, Prim."

"I'm so excited!" she squeals.

I nod my head and realize she can't see me. "Cool."

She's so lost in her own little world that she must not sense my lack of enthusiasm. She just starts to ramble on about how she doesn't care if it's a boy or a girl and she's just so excited and she took a name book out of the library and everything.

"So you and Gale need to get married so my baby can start having cousins."

"I don't want to have a baby right now, Prim."

I can imagine her rolling her eyes. We've always differed here. Even when were little, Prim always wanted a big brood of kids in her house and I waffled between one or two or none at all. Gale knows this and I know it's going to be a point of contention for us. He wants kids. He grew up with three siblings and loved it. Like Prim, he wants a little brood. He's mentioned it a few times, like when we're watching sports on television he'll say something like 'I can wait to teach my son how to throw a football' or something. I always say the same thing. We are not ready to have a baby.

We aren't. Gale still has a year of law school and then we'll be paying back loans forever. I'd be fine waiting until we're debt free because then I'll probably be out of childbearing years but I know Gale would never go for that. It's a conversation we'll probably have to have at some point, not that I'm looking forward to it.

But, at least, with Prim pregnant my parents are more focused on her and the baby than on me and my living conditions. I don't hear the occasional 'when's the invites coming?' from my dad. It gives me a little bit more time to not have to think about marriage and kids and family and all the things I'm not sure that I want.

...

It's a hot day in early August when it happens.

We have central air, so inside the apartment is a saving grace after just walking to and from the car. The heat seems to be playing with Gale's mind as well – or maybe there's a full moon on the horizon because when he comes home he's right there. I'll be in the kitchen tossing a salad and he'll start kissing my neck and eventually the salad gets forgotten. It's been like that all week and it's fine with me. It's not like it's just good for him. I reap the benefits too. But, unfortunately, it also makes it so we blow through our stash of condoms quicker than usual and neither of us thinks about that. Or at least I don't.

I reach into our bedside table while Gale kisses down my body and my fingers land on an empty box. It makes me groan, one with a negative sound instead of a positive one, and it makes Gale look up at me.

"What did I do?"

"Nothing," I say. I lift up box. "We don't have any left."

There's a split second where we're both silent and unmoving before he opens his mouth and says something I'm not expecting at all.

"That's okay," he says. "It's just extra protection. We're already good."

I'm pretty sure my heart skips a beat. "No."

He sits up and looks at me life I've grown two heads. "Why not?"

"I don't want to get pregnant." It's not a lie.

"You're on the pill, Katniss. That's not going to happen."

"The pill can fail, you know."

He shakes his head at me. Yes, I know it's unlikely, but I feel much more comfortable having the two forms of protection against that particular scenario. I'm not ready to have a baby – not now and maybe not ever.

"Okay," Gale says. He's tense and clearly not happy, speaking through his teeth. "But, when you ask me eventually why we waited so long to not use condoms I'm going to remind you of this."

"What do you mean?" I ask.

He rolls his eyes. "See, you've never experienced it before."

My stomach flops and without thinking I'm running to the bathroom, barricading myself inside. I lean against the door, pulling my legs up to my chest and pressing my forehead to my knees. On the other side of the door I can hear Gale coming after me. He knocks on the door and talks to me through it, apologizes for his snarky teasing, but I can't think about Gale right now. Not when my heart is pounding hard in my chest.

I'm not a good liar but I can avoid the truth and I haven't been entirely honest with Gale on that point. He never asked so I never felt like I needed to say anything about it.

I only had sex without a condom once and I can still remember everything about that night. It was the last time I slept with Peeta period. It was during his senior week – the week between finals and graduation where the only people on campus are the seniors and the school plans a bunch of activities for them with the nights filled with constant parties in the townhouses. I was staying at Madge's house with the rest of the girls when I got a call from Finnick, frantic because Peeta had locked himself in their room and they couldn't get him to come out.

"Can you come here? We can sneak you into the Townies," Finnick had said. "We're just worried about him."

The four of us hopped into Madge's car and we drove from her house to campus. We parked in the Townie parking lot and walked to the part of the fence around the Townies where Finnick told us to meet him. Apparently the wrought iron bars were farther apart and it was harder to see. To get into the Townies during senior week you needed to have a 21+ ID and your student ID so they knew you were a PCU senior and only one of the gate entrances was open after eight at night. I didn't have that, so they were going to pull me through the fence.

Finnick and Thresh were already there waiting for me and they quickly got me through. Annie, Madge, and Johanna slide through too and we walked down to their Townie together.

It was pretty late by the time we arrived, so the Townies were already alive. The big quad of Townies that are always known as the party quad had their big speakers out and people were filling the backyards and dancing on the picnic tables. The boys took Madge, Annie, and Johanna there to experience that and give me some time with Peeta to see if I could help.

I knocked on the door and he yelled, "Go away, Finnick!"

"It's me."

He looked terrible when he unlocked the door and opened it. His eyes were all bloodshot and his face blotchy and red. I wrapped my arms around him and we ended up sitting in his bed for a really long time before he finally started talking.

"I don't think I can do this," he said, his fingers playing with the end of my braid.

"What can't you do?"

He let out a breath. "Two years is such a long time, Kat. I'm going to miss so much here. I'm gonna miss you."

I wanted nothing more in that moment than to be selfish and tell him to stay. But I knew I couldn't. Peeta needed to do this. I told him that. Even as it broke my heart I told him what he needed to hear. Helped him agree with me, agree with our decision that we'd see where we ended up in two years and start again.

"I love you, Katniss. I really do."

"I know that. You'll always have me if you want me."

That's when I leaned up to kiss him.

His graduation was in four days. I knew when I was there that this was going to be my last time to be with Peeta for a long time so I made the decision without really thinking to just take everything that came my way. Of course, Peeta was gentleman. Before we got too far along we told me that he didn't have anything because, once I left for Madge's, he didn't see the need to buy more. I told him it was fine, that I wanted it, and in that moment I did. I wanted nothing less than to have Peeta completely with nothing in between us.

On the other side of the door from me, Gale has stopped his relentless knocking. I stand up and reach for my robe on the back of the door and wrap it tightly around myself before going to splash water on my face in our sink.

I don't regret that night with Peeta. It was something that I thought about a lot during those first few weeks of our separation. Peeta was my first everything all the way around. I only regretted it for a few hours a few weeks later. The stress of everything going on must have affected me in more ways than one because when I started my week of sugar pills my period didn't come when I expected it to. When I look in the mirror now, I feel like I'm twenty-one years old again in a bathroom at a Hardee's a good forty-five minutes away so no one from home sees me waiting for the digital screen to tell me that I'm not pregnant. I wasn't and I knew I wasn't deep down but as I waited there was a brief moment when I thought that it wouldn't be so bad. I'd call Peeta and tell him and he'd stay.

But I wasn't. The screen said in very big very bold letters NOT PREGNANT and then as if to solidify the point my period started two days later.

I take a deep breath and look at myself in the mirror. There's a part of me that knows it's unfair to Gale. We've been together for over two years now and one day I won't be able to hide behind my excuses anymore. But until then I'm just not ready. The only problem is that I'm not sure when I will be.

When I walk out of the bathroom, Gale is laying in bed. I think he's sleeping until he turns to face me so we're on our sides looking at each other.

"I'm sorry."

"Me too."

He lets out a breath. "I just...if that's your only fear I guess I just don't understand. Yeah, it wouldn't be ideal timing, but I'm not going to lie to you, Katniss. I want to have children with you one day."

"We're not even married," I say.

He reaches under his pillow and I clench my teeth. My heart is pounding and I realize it's not a good pounding as he pulls out a box.

"We could be," he says. He's just getting ready to open it when I shove it toward him.

"Not right now." It comes out in a sputter, too quick to really be understandable. "Not after what just happened."

He nods his head. "Let me know when you're ready."

I roll over and run my fingers over the edge of the bed unable to sleep. Even when Gale's breaths even beside me my eyes are still unable to close and my breaths are still panicky. This is what everyone expects. Relationships end in either one of two ways – staying together until you die or breaking up. It shouldn't come as such a surprise to me that Gale wants to marry me. I know he wants that and I've known it for a while. If he could, Gale would have the 2.3 kids and the picket fence and all of that. It seems like everyone wants that – Gale, my sister, even Darius is looking for that. Is it so strange that I don't? I'm not even sure I have my own life figured out yet – let alone marrying into someone else's problems and creating a little person that will need my help.

I don't get any sleep. When my alarm blares the next morning I'm still wide awake. Haymitch takes one look at me he tries to send me home, but I convince him that work is the best place for me right now and he lets me stay. It helps me keep my mind off of everything happening at home.

I don't go home immediately after work either. I decide to stop in the park near our apartment and just sit outside for a bit. I sit on a bench and really think about my life and try to figure out how it seemed to go from zero to eighty in no time at all. How did I manage to get to the point where I have to deal with thinking about being proposed to when it seems like I just graduated? Can't time just stop for a minute so I can breathe? There are so many changes going around with Prim and Gale and everything that I don't even know what to do anymore. I don't really have much of a constant in my life anymore. Gale and my relationship with him used to be that, but now he's thrown a wrench in there. My friends are all so far away that it's easy to keep them at arms length. I've convinced them that I'm fine, that I'm happy, that everything is going swimmingly when I really think I'm starting to drown.

When I finally go home that night, Gale is sitting at the kitchen table on his laptop. His eyes find mine over the screen.

"Where were you?" he asks. "I was ready to call out a search party."

"I think I want to go back to school."

"What?" he asks.

I sit down across from him. "I went to the library after work and I was looking into some programs."

"You couldn't have called me back? Or, better yet, come home? We have internet, you know. We do pay that bill every month," he hisses.

"My phone died, I'm sorry."

He shakes his head and looks back at his screen, his eyes occasionally glancing over to the book beside him. "Forget it," he says. Then after he types for a few minutes, he talks again. "So, what are looking into?"

"Getting my Masters," I tell him.

"Is there a school around here you like?" he asks. He's still typing as he talks. I roll my eyes.

"Yeah, but I'm just looking all over right now."

This catches his attention and he looks up at me, his fingers still typing away at the keys of his laptop even though his eyes are on me.

"What do you mean you're looking all over?"

"I just don't want to limit myself. I texted Haymitch a little before my phone died and apparently he knows someone at Johns Hopkins–"

"Johns Hopkins!" Gale exclaims. "You want to move to Maryland?"

"It's not that far away."

"It takes five hours on a good day to get there! Between Duke, Carolina, and State you should be able to find something closer to here."

"I followed you!" I shout. "I knew nothing about Durham. All of my friends were staying together and I had a job offer there, but I came with you despite all of that. Can't you do the same?"

"Once I graduate from Duke, I can get a good job in the Triangle. We're better off here."

I shake my head and stand up from the table, walking into the kitchen to get away from him because if I don't I'm going to say something that I might regret. I decide cereal is a good dinner for tonight and pour a bowl of Cheerios just as I hear his footsteps come to follow me.

"I made dinner."

"That's okay. This is fine."

Gale glares at me. "What's your problem?"

I blow out a breath through my nose. "My problem? My problem is that someone who was about ready to propose to me last night doesn't want me to go to school."

"I didn't say that."

"You got to go to your dream school, Gale. I followed you here. Now it's my turn to find a school that I really want to go to and you're not even listening!"

"It's not the same! I wanted to go to Duke since I was a kid. You're just picking a school now because of its name."

"That's not the point! If I wanted to go to a school, whether it's as close as Duke or as far away as Seattle, you should want me to be happy," I say. "A relationship is about give and take and so far it's just been you taking and taking!"

"Okay, fine. You want to move to Maryland. Go ahead. Move to Maryland. See if I care."

I don't even know what to say in response to that. So I don't say anything at all. I take my bowl and walk into our bedroom, locking the door and sitting on the bed, trying to keep my breathing even. My head spins and I'm not entirely sure what I'm feeling. Overwhelmed is a good word for it all. I lean back against the headboard and try to keep from crying because I don't want to give Gale the satisfaction of seeing me like that. But as much as I don't want it to hurt it does and no matter how hard I try to keep the tears from flowing they do anyway.

It must be a few hours later when Gale knocks on the door. I tell him to go away. I need the night to myself. He doesn't knock again.

For the second night in a row I don't get any sleep. I lie in the center of the bed, looking up at the ceiling and try to figure out how my choices led me to a place where I'm so unhappy. I thought I was doing the right thing. It made sense. I love Gale, I do, but I do wonder if I'm in love with him. When I try to compare the feelings I get when I'm around him to the feelings I had when I was with Peeta, I realize that they're different, but the two are very different people. That's normal right?

It is. It has to be.

Gale is asleep on the couch when I leave for work. Judging by the bags under his eyes I can guess that he got almost as little sleep as I did. When I pull in and sit at my bench I'm only there for a few minutes before I feel a hand on my shoulder.

Haymitch jerks his head toward his office.

"You look like you went through the ringer," he says when he shuts the door. He motions for me to sit on his desk and he takes the chair. "Wanna spill it?"

"No."

"Alright, well, if you don't want to talk I at least want you to take a nap. You look exhausted."

I shake my head. "No, I don't want to take a nap. I want to work. I was alone all night and I didn't get any sleep, being in here won't help me."

"Why were you alone?"

I can't decide if it's my exhaustion finally catching up with me or Haymitch's uncanny ability to read people that got us to exactly where I didn't want to be when he brought me in here, but nonetheless here we are. I put my face in my hands and let out a sigh. I don't mind talking to Haymitch. I've gone to him with questions that don't relate to my job on more than one occasion in the past, but pulling him into this situation with Gale seems unnecessary.

"It's nothing. Gale and I just got into a fight and I shut him out of the room."

"Sounds like a pretty big fight."

"I'm used to it. It's kind of how we function."

Haymitch looks me up and down as if he's trying to make me say more, but I don't. I have no desire to talk about Gale right now. I'm still trying to sort through all the feelings I had last night and I know I need to sleep so I can think more rationally about it, but when I close my eyes I just can't do it. I'm afraid of what will be left when I open my eyes.

Because as much as Gale and I argue and fight and want completely different things in life, I'm afraid to say goodbye. He's the one thing that I have going for me. I've managed to convince everyone in my life that I'm over the moon about my situation and not one person seems to pick up on the fact that I'm barely breathing. So I must be doing something right by being where I am. It's a secure life with Gale – like he said, when he graduates he'll get a good job and we'll both do well. That's not the problem.

"You okay?"

I didn't realize that I had zoned out. My eyes are watering. I nod my head, not speaking because I'm scared I'll do something stupid in front of my boss like break out into sobs.

He points to the small sectional he keeps in his office. I know he has it because he sleeps here some nights – he once told me, when I asked if he had a wife or a girlfriend, that he was married to his work. It takes forever and a lot of his experiments fail, but he said if he could create one drug that saved one person that would make it all worth it. Maybe I should just do that – marry my work instead of a guy.

I lie down on the couch and watch as Haymitch turns around and starts typing on his computer. It's only as I'm fighting sleep and about ready to lose that I realize that he's staying in here rather that out doing his work because I mentioned I didn't want to be alone.

...

Gale is sitting on the couch when I come home. He looks up at me and we stay frozen in our positions for a few moments. He opens his arms out to me but I don't come running. We're not ignoring this fight this time. We can't.

He sighs and leans his head against the back of the couch. "I'm sorry."

"We need to talk," I say.

He nods and I walk to the couch to sit next to him. I blow out a breath and clench my hands together in my lap.

"I think we're at two different places," I say. The words flow out just as they did in the car – mechanic and practiced, but at least they're coming out. "You're ready to get married and settle down and...I'm not. I don't know if I ever will be."

He looks away and gives a shake of his head. "I'll go with you."

"That's just a quick fix, Gale. We're still at two different places. I'm not even sure I want to get married at all."

"Is it because you're waiting for someone else?"

I shake my head. "It's not about Peeta."

"Of course it is – you just brought him into it without me even saying his name," Gale exclaims. He puts his head in his hands. "I mean, I get it. I guess it's my own fault. Thom warned me that I was just a rebound–"

"Gale, that's not–"

"Can I finish?" I nod. "I was a rebound for you, we both know it. I just thought that maybe we'd be able to get over it." He reaches into his pocket and pulls out that box again. "Do you think you could ever get to a point with me where you would wear this? I mean, we wouldn't have to get married if that's not what you want. We could just be engaged."

I let out a breath and take the box in my hands. The ring is beautiful with one diamond, a little bit of flash but not too much. It's the type of pomp and circumstance that I would expect from Gale but muted enough for me. It makes me feel like an evil witch shutting the box and placing it back on his knee.

"I'm not sure."

He takes it in his hands and sighs. "So...I guess I just don't know what you want."

"I don't either."

He groans. "How do you not know?" he exclaims. "It seems pretty simple to me – you either want us to be together or you don't. What is it?"

"I just want my best friend back!"

He chuckles darkly. "See that's where we went wrong. I still see you as my best friend and you stopped."

"Gale," I mutter.

He shakes his head. "Don't."

Before I can start talking again, he stands up and walks out of the room. My heart starts pounding. Is this it? Suddenly I'm unsure. I don't want him to go. I can't let him leave yet. When I hear what sounds like him taking something out of the closet, I spring into action, rushing into the bedroom.

"Wait," I say. He stops and turns around. "Don't do that. We can figure it out."

"I'm not here because it's convenient to you, Katniss."

I shake my head and feel myself starting to shake. "Can we just slow down for a few weeks. Start over? Start from the beginning? I can do it. I don't want you to go."

He sighs and walks over to me, leaving his bag on the ground. He puts his hands on my face and leans down, kisses me once, and then shakes his head.

"No," he says. "How about this? We take a break for a week and when I come back to get the rest of my stuff, we can talk. Okay?"

It brings me back to Peeta. How he told me that if it were meant to be it would happen when he came back. I can't let the same thing happen with Gale.

"No, please," I whine, shaking my head out of his hands. "We can do this. We can figure it out and it will be okay. We can fall in love. It can't be that hard."

"Katniss, I'm already there."

"Yeah, well, I'm not."

"Exactly and if you're not there after living together for two years you're never going to get there!" he shouts. "You tell me right now that you'll marry me and I'll do it. I'll start this over. But I can't keep doing this. It's killing me just as much as it's killing you."

The words come out before I can think. "Okay, I'll marry you."

At least Gale looks just as surprised as I feel. He shakes his head. "Don't do this because you're afraid to be alone."

"I'm not. I want to."

He shakes his head. "Tell me the same thing in the morning and I'll believe you."

The rest of the night is spent in near silence. Gale doesn't talk and I've never been a talker so my attempts at getting him involved are futile. It's a steady monotonous routine as we get ready for bed and lie on our respective sides and stare at the ceiling. I wake up before my alarm in the same position, on my back and looking up at the ceiling. As careful as I can not to wake him, I roll out of bed and get ready for work, making sure to leave before he can pull that ring on me.

What was I doing last night? What sort of person have I become? I'm embarrassed by how dependent I've become on him when I know I can do fine without anyone. I think about it all day at work, trying to figure out what to do and how I want to handle it. But the actual act ends up being easier than I expected. When I walk through the door to the apartment, Gale is in the kitchen and he hands me the box.

I hand it back.

...

Breaking up with someone that you share a life with is extraordinarily difficult. Of course it would be taxing emotionally. Even though I know it's the best thing for us to do, I still sob off and on all night. I call Prim in tears and she talks me through it but it doesn't make it easier when I know Gale is in his makeshift bedroom in the living room probably doing much of the same.

But it's also logistical things that I didn't see coming that end up putting me even more through the ringer. We just signed a new lease and we'll have to figure out how to handle that. Who keeps what? How do we split things that we bought together? Gale keeps the apartment because it's closer to Duke than my work. Darius lets me sleep at his house while I apartment hunt so I don't have to prolong the inevitable of moving out.

It's hard. It's really hard. But it's something that needed to be done for both of us.

...

No one ever told me how much it hurts when you break up with someone. Sure, it makes sense that getting dumped would be painful, but shouldn't it be some sort of liberation when you're the one to end something? Instead I feel all kinds of terrible.

I am inundated by texts and calls when Gale changes his relationship status on Facebook. I don't return them for a while, choosing instead to watch as my phone lights up with various notifications.

_Incoming call  
__Madge Undersee  
__Mobile_

_New Voicemail! Madge Undersee_

_Incoming call  
__Johanna Mason  
__Mobile_

_New Voicemail! Johanna Mason_

_Incoming call  
__Prim  
__Mobile_

_Incoming call  
__Prim  
__Mobile_

_Prim [sent 1:46pm]: Katie-Kat, text me or call me when you need someone to talk to_

_Annie Cresta [sent 4:32pm]: How you doing, hun? I get off work at 5 if you need me._

_Incoming call  
__Madge Undersee  
__Mobile_

Instead of answering their calls, I grab a container of ice cream and park myself in front of Netflix. I'll call them once I've wrapped my head around my own feelings. When I finally do call them, I tell them all the same thing – I'm fine. Yes, it hurts, but no I'm not going to have a nervous breakdown. Not like last time. I've learned that life goes on.

And it does.

Slowly, I start to make new routines. Routines that I once had with Gale become my own. I find new running routes near my new apartment and I go out to places with Darius rather than Gale or sometimes I'll just explore by myself. I'll grab a book and head to a coffee shop I've never been to before. And I start to really look into applying for graduate schools so I spend a good amount of time at the public library studying for the GRE, which I sit for in May.

It's like applying to college all over again and it brings me a similar thrill that came all the way back then when I was at home trying to escape. Now it's just starting a new journey. I'm not running away from anything, but instead charging forward.

By December all of my applications are in and I'm just waiting to hear about interviews. On New Year's I head out with Darius to his favorite bar and wingman for him, successfully for once. Or at least I manage to get someone to talk to him. I'll admit that I'm not the best wingman.

I sit at the bar by myself to give them space and look around and realize that I'm fine being by myself. I don't need anyone to kiss on New Year's or anyone waiting on me at home. When the ball drops on the television and it seems like everyone in the bar is kissing someone, I take the final gulp of my drink and decide that this is the year that I find myself.

...

Panem City International Airport hasn't changed a whole lot since I was last here. The terminals are still a little stuffy and old, the people are still hurrying to get from one place to another, and the attendants sitting at the edge of security still look utterly bored. But there's something about this airport, despite the less than pleasant appearance, that makes me feel good. Maybe it's the familiarity of it. Maybe it's knowing that sitting in the 'No Parking – Loading/Unloading Only' lane are Annie and Madge. Whatever the reason, being here is putting a little spring in my step that I haven't had in a while. Even the fact that my checked bag comes out on a turnstile that isn't the one they said doesn't take away the light euphoric feeling of being home.

Maybe home isn't a place – it's people.

"Katniss!"

I look up and grin when I see Madge jumping up and down like a toddler in front of Annie's little blue four-door. I quickly cross the street and then end up with my body surrounded by her arms as she hugs me tightly. Annie has gotten out of the car and popped open the trunk, ready to receive me as soon as Madge lets go. After the last year that I've been through, it's like a breath of fresh air to be surrounded by their undeniable love. It's like I never left.

I can't believe it's been so long. The last time I was here was college graduation. How is it possible that it's been nearly four years since that? Where did the time go?

Madge and Annie live in an actual house rather than an apartment. It's a cute little bungalow style that they're renting. It's near the subway and, as fate would have it, fairly near where our campus was located. I've seen it through FaceTime but this is the first I've seen of it in person. It's everything I would expect of Madge and Annie – clean, cutesy, and utterly organized. It has a nice little yard area, a deck with a grill that I'm sure they don't use but was furnished by Mr. Undersee, and three small bedrooms. Just the right size for two twenty-somethings that are living and working in the city.

"Okay, so no pressure," Madge says when I drop my stuff in the guest room. "But you need to rock this interview and get accepted at PCU. We miss you so much!"

I nod my head and give her a smile. I know the feeling. I've missed them too.

"If you do come here next year, you can totally steal this guest room and make it your own. Our guests can sleep on the futon in the living room," she continues.

"Hold up, Madge. I haven't even done the interview yet."

Annie chuckles from the doorway. "Katniss, you're going to do fine. Especially with Dr. Heavensbee as the new head of department, I'm sure you just have to show up to this interview."

"I don't want the handout," I insist. "I want to earn it."

"You did," Annie says. "In undergrad."

I suppose she makes a good point. My work precedes me at PCU. But it's not the same as going to a new school, applying, and knowing they want me based on that alone. But then again I need to stop thinking like that.

"Where else are you applying?"

I rattle off my list of schools. They're both shocked when I mention NC State and UNC. I guess they just assumed that my choosing to go back to school came about when my relationship with Gale tanked and that I'd want to get as far away from that as possible. But while Gale and I aren't what we were – and never will be again – I'm not running from him. I've learned from the past that I just need to suck it up and I can't live my life scared. I'm going to do what I want to do. If I run into Gale, I run into Gale. Maybe one day we'll regain the friendship we had before we destroyed it, but until then I'm doing what I want to do.

Screw Gale. Screw Peeta. Screw boys in general. I don't need any of them. I can survive fine on my own, thank you very much.

My interview is fairly early so Madge and Annie understand that I just want to relax. They take me to dinner at one of our favorite places from undergrad and it brings up so many nostalgic stories between us. It's a fun time to just relax and talk and remember the good parts of college. Once we're back from dinner we pop in a movie only to get interrupted by a FaceTime call from Johanna, who wants to wish me luck and inform us that she hates us all for being together without her.

It's a really good day. I'm glad that I don't have to fly out until Sunday so it gives me Saturday with them as well.

My interview goes well, my best one yet, but that may be because I'm so comfortable with Dr. Heavensbee already after having worked in his lab for two years as an undergrad. He's easy to talk to and while it's definitely different talking to him in this capacity, it's not that much different that it makes me nervous.

I feel really good leaving it.

I realize Saturday night that my interview was the saving grace between me and the girls. Madge and Annie must not have wanted to ask the intensely personal questions while I was preparing as not to throw me off, because once we celebrate my interview with some mixed drinks that Annie and Madge throw together, we sit on the couch and start to talk about the years since we've been – for lack of a better word – separated. No more of this stroll down memory lane. They want to know how I've been and how North Carolina has been and I ask the same. How are their jobs? How are they doing here?

"So do you want to go back down there?" Madge asks.

I shrug. Nothing is really tying me to a particular place. It's why I was so comfortable applying to all sorts of programs all over the country. While I've found my niche in North Carolina and I would miss that, I know I can go somewhere else if it's where I'm led to go. I don't really have one home. I'm home wherever I'm with Prim and my parents, when I see Madge, Annie, and Johanna, it used to be where Gale was and when I move on it will be there too.

"I'll go wherever the wind takes me."

Annie grins. "Well, tell that wind to blow a little closer to us, alright?"

The two of them regale me with stories the rest of the night about wild and crazy adventures that they've had. Like the time Madge managed to meet one of the owners of the local major league baseball team at work and scored them a couple of box seats for one of the games. Or how they eat at one of our favorite shops from our college days once a month just for memory's sake. They went to New Year's in New York with Johanna and managed to make friends with a group of guys who went to our rival college. Madge has had a few short relationships. Annie went on a few dates. She's getting lunch with a few of the people from the swim team in a month when a few of them travel to the city.

When they drop me off at the airport, I don't really want to leave.

...

It's a difficult decision to make, but out of the universities that I'm accepted to I choose to study under my old professor and choose PCU. I start packing my things so I can start shipping them up. My lease is up at the end of July so I'll stay down here until then before moving in with Madge and Annie and starting classes in August. I'm driving my car up so my plan is to stop off and stay with Prim and my parents for a while to see them. Her son is growing like a weed and it's crazy to think he's already turning two. I'll be there for his birthday and then continue north. Madge and Annie are taking a bus to New York so when I drive through we can meet Johanna for the weekend and then they'll drive the rest of the way up with me.

Effie, who sits at the front desk of the lab, throws together a huge going away party for me on my last day of work. Darius actually cries. Haymitch, in true form, just tells me to keep in touch and insists that I'm doing this to make his life more difficult by having to hire someone to replace me. I take that as his way of saying he'll miss me because, as good as he always was with advice, it's this emotional stuff that he's no good at. But then again I'm not one to talk.

The next morning I leave my key on the table and lock the door behind me.

...

I hate driving in New York. In general, the city just isn't for me. I need something a little less concrete, but that's just me. Johanna grew up there though so she's used to it. I should have had her meet me outside the city and let her drive my car to her apartment so I could park in her second spot because as I sit in traffic going over the George Washington Bridge into Manhattan I'm about ready to pull my hair out. It's been a long week of driving and stopping. I'll be happy to reach my final destination.

Eventually I make my way to where Johanna lives, a tall building in the middle of Manhattan. She certainly did well for herself with her business degree, working her way up the corporate ladder at a bank. Johanna was always cut throat enough to surge to the top, even when people doubt her.

She's waiting for me in the lobby.

"Jesus, Brainless, I thought you decided not to show," she says as she pulls me into a hug.

"It took me forever to actually get into New York. There was a huge accident in New Jersey and then the bridge was basically a parking lot," I tell her as we pull apart. "Also, why is it so expensive to get into New York? How special do you think you are?"

She laughs and shakes her head. "Come on, knucklehead, let's go drop your stuff so we can meet Annie and Madge at the bus."

Her apartment is small but absurdly nice. I drop my bag on the floor in her room and then she hustles me back to the elevator. Madge and Annie are going to beat us there so we text them so they know. The subway we take is pretty empty for the city, but it's been a while since I've been on a subway so I feel like it's my first time. I keep my arm tight through Johanna's so I don't end up lost.

This city is too big for me.

Once we grab Madge and Annie, we head to one of Johanna's favorite pizza places where we each get a greasy piece the size of our heads. Johanna finishes it in record time and goes for another. It's good to know that even with the fancy life Jo has created for herself some things just don't change. Then we head back to her apartment to catch up. As much as Johanna wants to take me out to experience New York at night, I'm too tired. I've been in the car for almost six hours today when it was only supposed to take four. I just want to sit down and curl up on the couch.

But I'm not so lucky the next night. Johanna insists on dressing me up and taking the three of us to her favorite bar. She promises that it's nothing like the sleazy dive bar near campus that we used to go to in college – that we've 'gotten classy' now that we're twenty-six. We order a round of tequila sunrises, courtesy of Madge, and I realize that it's pretty casual vibe. It's not bad, not too wild and crazy.

Annie and Madge are talking to a couple of guys while Johanna and I finish off our drinks when a good looking guy comes up to our table.

"Hello, ladies," he says. Then he holds his hand out to me. "I'm Josh Homes."

I nod and take his hand. "Katniss Everdeen."

Then he turns to Johanna who introduces herself as well.

"Can I buy you a drink?" he asks.

I shake my head and hold up my nearly empty glass. "This was my last one for the night."

He talks to us for a few more minutes and then leaves us be. Johanna slides her finger on the rim of her glass for a moment and then glances up at me.

"That guy was totally hitting on you," she says.

"I know," I tell her. It's true. I did realize it. I'm not the same girl who couldn't tell that someone was flirting with her. I've at least figured that out in the last six years. "But I wasn't interested. Right now I'm just about me."

She nods her head. "He looked like he would have been a good lay," she says.

I shrug. She could be right, but I have to learn how to accept myself again. I'm getting there, slowly but surely. Getting up the courage to apply to school and move back up here was definitely a step in the right direction. My relationship with Gale does not define me anymore. I'm defined by me.

...

It's a Saturday in early fall when Annie says she's meeting an old friend at Starbucks to catch up.

"A coffee date?" Madge clarifies.

Annie shrugs. "I'm pretty sure it's just catching up. He never noticed me before."

I reach into the bowl on our table and pull out an apple. "Who is it?"

"Finnick," Annie says quietly, her eyes not quite meeting mine. "I'm sure it's just catching up."

"You still have a crush on him?" Madge exclaims. She plops down into the seat next to me at the table. "It's been how long, Ann?"

Annie shakes her head and pulls on her coat. "Like I said, its just coffee. He's probably dating some model anyway. God, what if he's married?" She covers her mouth. "Do you think he's married?"

Madge rolls her eyes. "Only one way to find out," she says pointing to the door.

Once Annie walks out, Madge turns to me and shakes her head. "Seriously, that boy is going to be the end of her."

I swallow the lump that has been forming in my throat at the idea of Annie talking to Finnick. I realize that they're still friends, and have been friends for longer than I'd even known Peeta, but my heart feels cold with the idea that something more could go on between them. Because, if it did, that means I'd inevitably be around Peeta and I'm not sure I'm ready for that.

"Maybe this will be the time she gives up," I say.

"Or the time he figures it out." Madge takes a bite from an apple.

Annie doesn't come back for hours. I try not to feel anything during the time that she's gone because, honestly, if Finnick finally does share her feelings this time around it's a great thing for her. It's been a long time coming. But I'm a selfish person and I can only think of what's going to happen in the future. Like say, if they get married, Peeta is probably going to be the best man at their wedding and I'll definitely be one of the bridesmaids.

I can't do this. I should have taken the spot offered to me in Seattle.

Madge of course doesn't have the same inner turmoil as I do so when Annie comes in after dark she's all over her with questions.

"It was nice," Annie says. "We were catching up and then we took a walk and got dinner at a little sandwich place. It was really nice."

"Is he married?" Madge asks.

Annie shakes her head. "Completely single."

"So I hope you're meeting up again soon."

"Yeah, we're getting dinner next weekend."

Madge starts squealing and when the two of them fall onto the couch to recount all the little details of the not-quite-a-date I take my laptop and pretend like I have a lot of work to do, while really going to sit on my bed and process what I'm feeling alone because I don't want to hurt Annie.

I'm happy for her. Annie has held a candle for Finnick for so long it's nice to see something actually come of it. But like I said, I'm a selfish person. I'm truly happy for Annie, but she couldn't have picked someone else? Out of all the people we know, she had to pick Peeta's best friend? Granted, she's been after Finnick for longer than I've even known Peeta.

I hate how everything in my life comes back to Peeta. Screw Peeta. I shouldn't care about him any longer. It's in the past. It's over. It's done with. I need to get over it. I need to be happy for Annie and not thinking about myself.

"Knock knock."

I look up and see Madge sticking her head in the crack of my door. She gives a small smile. "How's the work coming?"

I don't even have a document up on my computer. It's still the home screen. "Fine."

She comes over and sits next to me on the bed. "Did I ever tell you how mad I was when you started dating Gale?"

"No," I say. "If I had known, I wouldn't have."

It's true. Madge being upset would have been the perfect excuse when it seemed like the rest of the world wanted to push us together. I had been looking for that excuse.

"I had this huge crush on Gale and he only had eyes for you," she says. "And just when I thought I was getting somewhere, he went off to play your prince charming after Peeta left. I was so mad at you."

"I never realized it."

She shrugs. "I only really told Annie because I knew Jo would have told you and I didn't want to cause drama. You were finally looking like you were semi-happy again and I didn't want to ruin that, I guess." She takes a deep breath. "You do know that it doesn't matter what happens between Annie and Finnick, if you don't want to see Peeta again you don't have to. We'll make sure of it."

"How did you know?"

She smiles and wraps her arms around me. "Because we may have been thousands of miles apart for the last few years, but you're still my best friend and, no offense, your poker face sucks."

We both chuckle.

"Thanks," I say.

"Now come on," she says, shutting my laptop. "You're not doing any work and Annie got Nutella and Redbox. We're having a movie night and we're not starting without you."

She sits up off the bed and goes toward the door. I move my computer from my lap and stand, but call back to her before we go through the door.

"I wish I had known about Gale," I tell her. "It might have worked for you two."

She shakes her head. "It wouldn't have. I never would have gone to Durham. This is my home and I never want to live anywhere else." She shrugs. "Everything happens for a reason. We just don't always see it at the time."

I roll my eyes. "Life isn't like books."

"Maybe, maybe not."

And then she turns and continues down the stairs.

...

Before long there's snow on the ground. Something I had sort of forgotten about after living in North Carolina was the amount of snow they get up here and how things still go on even when it does snow. Schools have to basically be buried to cancel. But having a white Christmas is something spectacular. It makes everything seem magical.

It is for Annie at least. Finnick gives her a key to his apartment for Christmas.

They aren't moving in together, but I have a feeling that will happen before long. After my chat with Madge, I felt better about it. I've only seen Finnick a handful of times myself, so it makes me feel at ease that I won't have to see Peeta. Finnick mentions in passing that he doesn't live up here – that he's in New York City teaching in Brooklyn and finishing up getting his Master's – but that's all he really says about Peeta. It's a tense topic for the two of us to talk about which is understandable. Peeta is his best friend after all. I'm just glad that it doesn't make his relationship with Annie tense.

Finnick always throws a big party to watch the ball drop on New Year's and we all get invited. Annie and Madge definitely want to go but I'm a little more hesitant. Although Annie says that Peeta probably won't be there, I'm still thinking that most of the guys that lived with him will be there and if it's tense around Finnick I can only imagine how much worse it will be around the others. The ex-girlfriend of your best friend must be an odd river to navigate.

But Annie won't go unless I go, saying that at twenty-six I am too young to stay in and watch the ball drop by myself at home, and with the look Madge gives me from behind her I know I have no other choice unless I catch a bus down to New York to spend the holiday with Johanna. But being in New York for New Year's sounds like it would kick-start an anxiety attack for me – big crowded places have never really been my thing – so I tell them that I will go, under a few conditions.

A) I am not kissing anyone at midnight.

B) I am not getting drunk around these people.

And

C) If Peeta shows up I am out the door and on the next subway train home.

The conditions seem fair enough to them.

We dress up in sparkly clothes and it feels like college all over again. Madge makes me change at least three times before she's finally satisfied with how I look and she takes probably an hour doing her hair and make up. What if one of Finnick's work friends is super cute and into her? She has to be super cute for him too.

I finish first, as always, and check to see how late the train is running tonight just in case I need to make my getaway.

It's not that I'm scared of seeing Peeta again. It's been five years and that should be enough time for me get over him. And I have, but at the same time I haven't. I'm mad at him and still in love with him all at the same time. Madge says that's normal. He's my first love and he'll always hold a special place in my heart for that reason alone. But it doesn't necessarily mean I want to see him, especially if he has his own life all settled with a wife and maybe a kid or two.

I shake my head. He's not going to be there. He probably has big plans in New York.

By the time we get there, Finnick's apartment is already full of people and it looks way too similar to the Townie parties that he used to help throw when we were in school. Aren't we a little old for that? Madge nearly sprints to the beer pong table though so I guess not. I lose Annie fairly quickly after. She and Finnick disappear into a crowd and then I don't really want to chase after them.

Most of the people here I don't even recognize. A lot of them are probably friends from work that Finnick has made since graduating. I do notice a few familiar faces. Cato is Madge's beer pong partner and Marvel is standing behind a makeshift bar, whipping up cocktails like it's his job. And maybe it is. I haven't see them or heard from them in forever. He very well could have worked as a bartender, or maybe he still bartends.

I feel a tap on my shoulder.

"You walk a little better in heels since the first time I met you."

The voice is too familiar. It's the same one that has haunted my dreams and thoughts, the one that I didn't want to hear. As I turn around, I pray that the person is someone else. Someone who doesn't have blond curls and bright blue eyes and a smile I could look at for the rest of my life. But I'm not that lucky.

The guy behind me still has blond curls and bright blue eyes, but there's something different about him as well. He's older, with more scruff and an even more defined face than he had in school if that's even possible. He has aged extraordinarily well and I feel my stomach flip as our eyes meet.

And I know I should say something witty, something about how we're always meeting at Finnick's parties. But the words just don't come. They've never been my strong point.

All I manage to say is, "You're here."

I vowed this wouldn't happen, but just like that, just like always, Peeta Mellark has turned me into a puddle.

* * *

**Notes:**

The chapter title comes from the Carrie Underwood song _Starts with Goodbye_.

Prim's wedding dress is based off one I saw on the David's Bridal website. If you want to see it, I can post a picture on my Tumblr.

"You're overcooking my grits" is a line spoken by Coach Boone (Denzel Washington) in _Remember the Titans_. The real Herman Boone was born in Rocky Mount, NC. In my own personal head canon for this fic, Haymitch is also from Rocky Mount.

The incident with the fence during senior week that Katniss recalls is based off real events during my senior week trying to get my roommate's boyfriend through the fence bars when he got to campus a few minutes after the gates closed for the night.

When Katniss tells Gale about wanting to go to school, Gale mentions 'the Triangle' and finding work there. The Triangle refers to a region in North Carolina anchored by Duke, University of North Carolina at Chapel Hill, and North Carolina State University, and therefore the cities of Raleigh (NC State), Durham (Duke), and the town of Chapel Hill (UNC). The core region includes Wake, Orange, and Durham counties. It is also where Research Triangle Park, the home of many high-tech companies and enterprises, is located. Katniss's job is located in Research Triangle Park.

And, there we go, back on the track to Everlark HEA. Thanks as always to Swishy for prereading. Hope you all enjoyed it!


	5. Chapter 5

**05: Are you real or just something from wanderlust?**

The crooked half-smile that takes over his face seems too foreign for his lips, lips which can stretch into the most glorious smile that spans ear to ear. Instead, the toothless smirk sits entirely below his nose, his eyes still registering other emotions – shock, confusion, maybe a bit of pain. Or maybe his blue eyes, always the color of the Caribbean seas I've only seen photographs of, are mirroring my own because they're showing exactly what I feel.

"Yeah. I'm here," he says after a moment. He lifts his bottle and then licks the remaining taste of the beer from his lips.

I swallow hard and my hands wring together subconsciously because there is nothing to do with them otherwise.

"I thought you would be in New York," I say. That's what Annie said. That's the only reason why I said I'd come. If she lied to get me here, God help her.

"That was the plan." He adjusts his arms so they're crossed over his chest in a way that makes it so he doesn't spill his beer. "That is until Cato basically dragged me out of my apartment this morning. I think he just wants someone to drive him home tomorrow when he's hungover." Peeta shrugs. "But I figured why not? Surprise Finnick and the rest of them. I haven't seen them in a while."

So they didn't know. Annie and Madge are probably still oblivious to the fact that Peeta is here.

"I'm sure they were surprised," I mumble.

He nods, his expression tightlipped. Rather than start a conversation, Peeta lifts his bottle to his lips and sucks down the remainder in a few long gulps.

There were times right after Peeta left, specifically after he left me at the airport and then again when I knew he wasn't in the country any more, when I longed for this moment. I would imagine it over and over again to the point where I could practically see myself flying into his arms, breathing in his scent, and relishing the fact that he's home, he's here, and we could start where we left off.

None of this is like what I imagined. Rather than a feeling of elation, I feel like I'm suffocating. But, I suppose, it wouldn't make sense that after five years of not seeing each other we'd go back to exactly what we were before. That's impossible.

It doesn't make the awkwardness and tension hurt any less.

He shakes his bottle when he pulls it away, the lack of sloshing indicating that it's empty. This is it. He wanted an excuse to get out so he downed his drink so he can go over to the bar and disappear now that he's realized talking to his ex is the most awkward thing in the world. He probably regrets tapping my shoulder.

"You want anything?" he asks, gesturing to his empty Sam Adams and then across the room to where I know Marvel has set up a makeshift bar.

In spite of myself, I say yes and he says he'll be right back.

I cross my arms over my chest and lean against the wall. It's absolutely pathetic that I said yes and I try my hardest while he is gone to convince myself that I didn't respond the way I did to ensure that he'd come back. I let a slow breath out through my mouth.

Peeta emerges back through the crowd. He has another Sam Adams in one hand and a long stemmed wine glass in the other. He holds out the glass and I take it quickly, realizing that it's not real glass and actually plastic as soon as my fingers touch it. A wise idea on Finnick and Thresh's part, considering it looks like their plan for this party is to ensure that everyone is completely smashed and passed out before the ball even drops.

"I hope wine's okay," he says. "I forgot to ask what you wanted. I remembered that you didn't like beer and I wasn't sure what your stance on hard liquor is anymore – I know I can barely touch the stuff now. They didn't have the champagne out yet–" He looks down at his bottle. "I'm rambling."

I shake my head. "No, you're fine. This is...this is good."

"Good," he says.

He repositions himself so he's standing beside me against the wall and both of us are looking out at the group of adults. While it did remind me on first glance of the parties Finnick and Peeta and the rest of their roommates used to throw back at school, it is definitely toned down. The sheer number of people in the room has halved and, although I still don't know all of the people in the room, I'm sure the appeal of letting random people into your living room has dissipated since college. Long gone is the chance of finding a random freshman floating around the party attempting to score free drinks and party like they know someone here. But despite the smaller size, this whole thing still isn't really my forte.

And having Peeta right next to me isn't helping my nerves any.

"Why are you still standing here?" I ask. My voice sounds more harsh than I suppose it should, but Peeta broke up with me, Peeta didn't make any effort to keep up with me even after he returned to the US, and – I'm sorry but isn't there this unwritten rule for exes that they just sort of pretend that the other doesn't exist? Gale and I have certainly mastered that.

He looks taken aback at first but then he just shakes his head. "Well, for one, you look really uncomfortable – deer in headlights kind of look, you know? This kind of event was never really your cup of tea," he says. He grinds his teeth together. "But I guess if I'm what's making you tense, I can just head that way." He steps away from the wall and smiles tersely. "It was good seeing you again, Katniss."

My hand reaches out to grab his and it shakes his arm enough to send a few sloshes of beer out of the top of the bottle and onto the floor.

"Peeta, wait," I say. The words fall right out of my mouth. "Thanks for thinking of me. You're right, this isn't really..."

He shrugs. "You never liked crowds," he says, filling in my blanks. "A lot of things have probably changed, but I figured that's one of the things I remember that might still be the same."

That's the second thing that Peeta has correctly remembered about me tonight. It makes me let go of his arm and let my hands fall to my sides. That's just Peeta though. He has always been thoughtful and I'm sure he'd be just as attentive in his recollections if it were someone else holding his attention.

"It is," I mumble. "But I promised Annie that I'd come with her."

His eyes lighten. "Yeah, she and Finn," he says, as if I've jogged his memory.

"They disappeared," I add, although judging by the fact that I'm all by myself, he probably already got that memo. "And Madge is...somewhere."

"Do you want me to help you find her?"

I shake my head. While Darius seemed to think I did well, I know that I'm a horrible wingman and Madge dressed to impress tonight. She's hoping to hone in on one of Finnick's work buddies.

"I think I might just head out."

Peeta looks behind him to the large clock Finnick has put on the wall. "Out?" he asks. "It's not even eleven yet."

"It's midnight somewhere."

He sighs and sets his beer bottle down on the side table next to where we're standing. "You taking the subway?" When I nod, he continues. "At least let me walk you to the stop."

"There's no need," I tell him. "I'm a big girl. I can walk myself."

He gives me a look that says he's not having any of it. "It's New Years Eve. The amount of drunk perverts out there skyrockets tonight." I shake my head. "Please, Katniss. It will make me feel a lot better knowing you made it to the train safely."

I try to make it look like he's putting me out, but to be honest I'm glad he's pushing me to let him walk me to the stop. I'm not too familiar with Finnick's neighborhood and walking outside in the dark alone is how a crime show would start.

"Fine."

"Let me grab my coat."

I contemplate taking off while he's disappeared into the crowd and if I hadn't just watched a creepy marathon of _20/20 _and _Dateline_ with Madge last weekend, I probably would have. But Peeta doesn't give me too much time to decide. He comes back in what seems like seconds, his coat over his arm rather than on his body, as if he knew he needed to get back quickly to catch me.

The subway stop is a few blocks from Finnick's apartment and walking there took long enough when I was with Annie and Madge. With Peeta it seems to take a small eternity. I have to give Peeta a little credit. He tries. But after the initial pleasantries – _How have you been? Good, you? Good_ – the awkward silence begins to sink in again. I don't know what is okay to say and what isn't. So I don't say anything and answer his questions in vague short phrases until he stops asking them all together.

Finnick's apartment is on the red line. The stop nearest his place is aboveground and is one of the few stops in the city with an ETA board. It looks like a train just left the stop when we arrive and another going inbound into the city, where I need to go to transfer to the green line that will take me home, won't be going through for another ten minutes. Peeta sits down on the bench beside me, wordlessly showing that he's not going to leave until I am safely on this train.

The stop is empty except for the two of us. I would assume that most people are already settled into their destinations by now. With barely more than an hour left until the start of the new year, I imagine the bars are packed and party attendants are all accounted for at apartments all across the city.

I glance over at the ETA board. Nine minutes.

"How's school going?" Peeta asks. I turn away from the ETA board and back at him. He looks sincere, not like he just wants to fill the silence. "Finn told me you're back at PCU."

I nod. "Yeah. I started in September." I could probably expand on that, tell him exactly what I'm doing, but I don't. I press my thumb nails into the pads of my fingers, the chill of the winter weather making the normally dull discomfort sharper. I advert the attention off myself. "You're in school too right?"

"I'll finish it up in May," he says.

I knew that – well, sort of. Finnick told me he was finishing up his Master's degree, but I didn't really press for exact details since Finnick didn't seem like he particularly wanted to give them.

"Well, congratulations," I mutter.

"Thanks." He crosses his arms, probably cold because it's below freezing right now and his coat isn't the thickest. "Look, this is super awkward, but, uh, thanks for letting me come with you. I would have been worrying all night."

And there he goes again. It would be so much easier to convince myself that Peeta Mellark is part of my past and that the past is where he should stay if he wasn't such a stand-up guy whenever I'm in his presence. The only thing keeping me from turning into putty in his hands is remembering the black hole of the first half of my senior year of college. It is hard to reconcile that this sweetheart beside me is the same one who led me to the most miserable moments of my life thus far, but it's enough to ensure that the chill running through me isn't entirely due to the weather.

"Can't have that," I mutter. My voice is flat. I just want to go home.

Peeta turns his head down to his feet. He runs one of his shoes over a small piece of broken concrete on the platform. Looks like he's done attempting small talk for the night, but he should remember that I've never been very good at it. I glance up at the ETA board and watch as the time ticks by slowly. Inbound train arriving in five minutes. Four minutes. Three.

"How long does it take you to get home from here?" The look on my face must be murderous because when Peeta looks up at me, wondering why I haven't answered, he looks surprised. "Just curious."

"About an hour," I say. He continues to look at me and my mouth opens of its own accord. "I have to take the red line all the way in and then transfer to the green line and take that one almost all the way out."

"So you live close to the school, then?"

I nod.

"Cool," he says. A loud horn blares in the distance and he turns to his left. The train's front lights are just visible coming down the track in the distance. "Well, there's your ride."

He stands up from the bench and stuffs his hands in his pockets. The platform I'm on is still dead.

"Happy New Year, Katniss."

The train comes to a screeching halt in front of us. The inside is just as empty as this platform with only a few other people in both cars. The conductor opens the door and when I don't immediately charge in to tap my card on the reader and take my seat he gives me a look.

"Peeta, wait," I say, turning back toward him, but I realize quickly that he hasn't moved to leave yet. "How will I know you got back safe?"

He gives me a funny look and then shakes his head. "I'll be fine."

"You getting on or what?" the conductor shouts.

"I'll text you," he says quickly, taking his hands out of his pockets to gently push me toward the door. The side doors are already shut and I know I'm being stupid, that the trains don't wait, but as much as I don't want to care about whether or not he gets back to the party or not, I do care. We may not be in a relationship, we may not ever have the same rapport that we used to, and we may barely talk to each other, but I'll always care about Peeta.

"Do you have my number?" I ask as I put one foot on the steps of the train. The conductor must hate me.

"Is it the same one you had in school?" he asks. I nod my head. "Then, yes, I do. Now get on this train before it leaves without you."

The minute that I'm fully beyond the yellow 'DO NOT STAND BEYOND' line, the conductor shuts the door, nearly taking Peeta's hands off. He gives me a tired look and as I fumble through my bag for my subway card, he just shakes his head.

"Just get in," he grunts as he sends the train lurching toward the next stop.

"Thanks."

I take an empty double seat by the window and pull out my phone. I don't have Peeta's number any longer. Johanna deleted that during the purge. But apparently he still has mine. Or maybe he was just saying that so he wouldn't feel the need to sit with me for another twenty minutes waiting for the next inbound train because we missed this one trading numbers.

Trading numbers with Peeta Mellark. I slam my head against the plexiglass window.

I'm about one stop from going underground and losing service when the soft ping of my phone signals a new text message. I hope it's Johanna, messaging me a Happy New Year before she gets too drunk to do so, or even Annie and Madge who I left at the party without so much as a goodbye. But instead it's an unknown number with an area code I don't really recognize but imagine it must be New Jersey because I know the message is from Peeta.

_908-555-1233 [Sent Dec 31, 11:20pm]: Made it back. Will you let me know when you get home? _

My heartbeat starts racing even as the train goes underground and my three bars disappear and are replaced with _searching._.. I stuff my phone back into my pocket and close my eyes, taking deep breaths. I am not going to cry on a subway. I am not going to cry because I ran into Peeta Mellark and he was just as nice and friendly as he always was, not horribly scorned or showing any outward sign of struggle when speaking. Unlike me.

"Last stop: City Center," the automated voice states. "This train will be taken out of service."

I stand and walk out the side door as to avoid the conductor and then stand on the platform. God only knows how long I'll be standing here. Usually trains come flying through the City Center stop, one right after the other, but it's a slow night. I sit down against a post and stare at the track entrance, waiting to see headlights that flash with my correct line.

The train I get on is another empty one. A few kids hop on at the first above ground stop and get off two stops later, making me roll my eyes. Then it's just me and the conductor. I hope he asks my stop and then runs the train express, but I doubt I'll be that lucky.

Instead, I pull my phone out and look at the message Peeta sent once more. It shouldn't bother me. He's just being Peeta and honestly I demanded the same of him. It's about as impersonal and direct as I can imagine Peeta being in text as well. This is how it's going to be from now on and I should get used to it.

I'm still staring at it when my phone dissolves into an incoming call screen. I sigh as I answer.

"Happy New Year, Darius."

"Not quite yet, Katniss," he says cheekily. "We've still got fifteen minutes of the year."

I roll my eyes. "Funny."

In the background I can hear chatter and music, but then I hear him shuffling toward something. I think he might open a sliding door, because as soon as I hear the swish the environment he's in makes it a whole lot easier to hear him.

"Wow, who managed to ruin your night?" he asks.

"No one."

I'm not getting into this with Darius. I'd actually like to forget this night even happened.

"Was it me?" he asks. "Shit. Were you hitting it off with someone and I interrupted? World's worst wingman award goes to–"

"I'm not at the party anymore, so you're good."

He pauses for a moment.

"Seriously?" he asks. When I don't say anything, he groans. "Katniss Everdeen! What are you doing? You're in your prime! You should be ringing in the New Year completely trashed and kissing a random stranger." I can almost imagine him shaking his head. "Next year, screw the in-laws, I'm bringing you to New York and making sure we're front and center, they always make sure the people in camera line have someone to kiss – maybe you'll get Ryan Seacrest."

I shake my head and try to fight the smile forming on my lips. "You're the worst."

"No, you are," he says. "You at least went to the party, right?"

I look out the window. We're getting close to my stop.

"Yes. I went, got ditched by Annie for Finnick and Madge for beer pong, and then I stood in a corner until I got approached by Peeta. Sounds like a fun night, huh?"

"Peeta as in Peeta Mellark?" he asks.

He knows about Peeta. He was there when I broke up with Gale and I word vomited the whole sorry sob story about our relationship to him and how that relationship ruined any chance of Gale and I ever working.

"Yes," I mutter.

He sighs. "So you ran into Peeta and immediately ditched."

"No!" I exclaim. "I ran into Peeta, we talked, I wanted to leave, he walked me to the subway station. The end."

Darius is quiet. "How did that feel?"

There are so many ways I could express my feelings tonight. I could tell him about how it feels like my chest cavity has caved in on my heart or how I'll never be able to eat again because my stomach is in unbreakable knots. I settle on, "Awkward."

"Well, it can only get better," he says.

"You think?"

"It sucks running into your ex again for the first time," he says. "Just don't let it get the best of you."

"Thanks, Darius."

"It's what I'm here for," he says. "You almost home?"

"About a stop away."

"Well, I'll let you go then. Happy New Year, Katniss."

When he hangs up, I feel a slight pang of regret in my chest. Darius is right – I shouldn't have left like I did. It just makes me look like a flighty idiot who can't handle being at the same overcrowded party as an ex. I suppose in some ways that's right – I am a flighty idiot who disappeared because Peeta was there. I can't even comfort myself with the knowledge that I didn't want to go in the first place because I know that's just an excuse for my impulsive behavior.

I thumb through my phone and send a message to Madge and Annie, just letting them know where I am. I open a SnapChat from Johanna, who looks to be at a crowded bar. I signal for my stop and the driver wishes me a Happy New Year as I exit. I just nod in reply. By the time I walk from our stop to the house it's after midnight.

The house is, of course, still dark. I flip on a light and go to the couch, not really caring to turn on the television and see recaps of the ball dropping. All I really want to do is go to bed and start this new year, so I can leave that incident with Peeta behind me.

Just as I'm curling up into my bed, make-up washed off and sparkly clothes in a pile on the floor, I remember Peeta's request. I open my messages and find the thread that I still haven't connected to his name and look at the single message left there for a few long seconds before letting myself type something.

_I'm home. Thank you for watching out for me [Delivered Jan 1, 12:42am]_

It doesn't sound too awful and I press send before I can think to retract it.

The little conversation bubble pops up before I have a chance to close out of my messages.

_908-555-1233 [Sent Jan 1, 12:42am]: Anytime Katniss. Sweet dreams_

I shake my head and put my phone to sleep, plugging it in and setting it on my bedside table. Then I stare at the ceiling, counting sheep until I realize it's useless. I'm not getting any sleep tonight.

And that's just as good because around 2:30 I hear a car door shut and then our front door jingling open. I listen to see if I can figure out who came home but there's no voices, just a set of fairly heavy footfalls on the stairs. The door to my bedroom creaks open and the hallway light floods my eyes as Madge sticks her head in.

"Are you asleep?" she whispers.

"No."

She kicks off her heels and crosses the room to join me in my bed. She wraps her arms around me and while I can smell the beer on her breath, it's not like the nights in college when she would come back so potent it was almost as if she dumped a whole bottle of hard liquor on herself.

She rests her head on my shoulder. "I swear I didn't know."

"It's fine," I tell her.

"Are you okay?"

It makes sense that Madge would be nervous for my wellbeing, considering my past when it comes to Peeta, but hearing her slightly inebriated concern still confuses me. Should I be wary of Peeta? Darius seems to think things will get better with time and our friendly-ish conversation seemed okay. Yes, Peeta has broken my heart before, but it's not as if I'm ready to jump head-over-heels into a relationship with him that will follow the same doomed trajectory as before. If Peeta is okay, why can't I be?

I nod my head. "Surprisingly, yes," I say. "It was awkward, but we got through it. It was good to see him."

I realize I'm being honest and not just placating her. While my head is still spinning about seeing Peeta again after all these years, I recall what Darius said about not letting it get to me. Peeta is not the end-all and be-all of my life, but I am interested in having him in my life again even if it's just someone to talk to at Finnick and Annie's hypothetical-but-very-probable wedding while Johanna gets trashed and Madge tries to catch the bouquet.

Madge gives me a squeeze. "I'm glad."

...

January drops nearly four feet of snow on the city in a series of storms. Traffic advisories are enforced and traveling by road takes up to four times as long as usual. The beginning of the new year is cold and difficult, not a good omen in my mind. Madge and I barely see Annie the whole month. Her work is closer to Finnick's apartment than our rented house and if the roads are bad enough she'll end up there. By February though the excuses of weather are merely formalities. We don't expect to see her.

While I see much more of Madge than I do Annie, our schedules do their fair share of conflicting. During exams, I spend long nights in the library. After she gets home from work, Madge stays in her room, fingers typing away at what she hopes will be a novel an agent will back. And when she's not doing that, she's registering for every online dating website she can find.

"I don't get it," she says, threading her arm through mine on a particularly cold late February morning. "They always say, PCU kids marry PCU kids. What's wrong with us?"

It's a Saturday after one of the hardest exams I think I've ever taken and I have no desire be here, out in Meadow Circle at a stupid brunch place because Madge's date also wanted to set up his friend. What I want is to be sleeping or curled up in my bed, bingewatching Netflix until my stomach growls so loudly I have to get up.

"I dunno."

"Aren't there any attractive grad students you could set us up with?"

I shrug. "If you're into pretentious assholes, sure."

That's not entirely true. There are a few guys who realize they have both attractiveness and intelligence going for them, causing their attitudes to cancel out the coveted trifecta, but to be honest, I haven't really noticed. I haven't really been looking. Right now, I am content with my life as it is and I don't particularly care to change it.

But this is something that Madge truly wants. Ever since we met freshman year of college, she has had a plan for her life that included getting married and putting her pinterest boards to good use. I honestly think she is more afraid of being alone for the rest of her life than she is of death. This is why I'm with her right now, because while I don't necessarily agree with her life trajectory design, I want her to be happy.

The date is fine. The guys are interesting and they both seem nice. They don't pry into things they shouldn't and the conversation, while very much introductory, is decent enough. There just isn't any sort of spark and it's not like I'm this super romantic girl with expectations of sugarplums and butterflies fluttering around me when I meet someone, but I do believe in chemistry.

It's fine though. I'm happy the way I am. If it happens, it happens. If it doesn't, I'm on my way to degree I want, hopefully a promising career, and maybe I can find a pet that is a bit more agreeable than Buttercup was – maybe a dog, or a goldfish, or an aloe plant. I heard it's nearly impossible to kill those.

...

"Cheers."

I lift the wine glass in front of me and chink it with the three others at my table. Johanna takes a long gulp from hers before setting it back down in front of her. Just beyond her, I can see the full silhouette of the city, around us, the bright lights flooding in through the night.

The restaurant is at the top of the highest building in the city and known as one of the most classy, and expensive, places to eat. While I'm not sure there's a written dress code anywhere there isn't a pair of jeans in sight. My feet are jammed in a pair of heels Madge insisted would look perfect with my dress. We came here once before during our senior week before graduation, but somehow this feels different. Maybe it's because the waiter is taking us seriously this time and we're not giggling about how fancy the foods sound.

I've never felt more adult than in this moment. Or maybe it isn't so much the adult part as it is feeling like I finally have my life in something that resembles order.

There isn't really a special occasion to be here, or at least not that I know of. It's the first weekend of March, the roads are still full of gray slush, and it's not as if there's any sort of big anniversary for us – not our college graduation, not of when we first came to this restaurant. But when Annie suggested we come here and invited Johanna up for old time's sake, what was I supposed to do but say yes?

"So, I have news."

Madge drops her fork with a loud chink against the fancy plate in front of her. I quickly look around to see if anyone noticed. If they did, they're not showing it.

"Did Finnick propose?" she asks.

Annie shakes her head. "No, it's a little soon for that," she says, chuckling an awkward sounding giggle. "But, his lease is running out soon and he and Thresh aren't going to renew it. He's looking for a new place and asked if I wanted to move with him when he does."

Madge squeals, and this time people do look in our direction. Johanna calls the waiter over and orders us all champagne on her. I just sit there in shock. Annie is moving in with Finnick. It's logical that moving in together would be the next step, but I hadn't realized it would be that soon.

Granted, I suppose I can't talk considering I moved halfway down the east coast with Gale on basically nothing but a jealous whim.

"Katniss? You okay?"

I turn to look at Annie and smile. "I'm just going to miss living with you," I say, which is true.

Annie takes my hand and gives it a squeeze and I feel all the order that my life was in when I arrived to dinner tonight being blown apart.

...

It's been five years since I've celebrated with him, but when March fourteenth arrives I am keenly aware of what day it is. It isn't as if Facebook pesters me to write on his wall – we're not friends – but ever since we ran into each other at Finnick's party, I have been thinking about Peeta more and more. I wonder what sort of awful thing I did in a past life to not be able to forget him.

I lay in my bed for what feels like hours, my phone cradled in my hands as I stare up at the ceiling.

There is nothing wrong with sending him a message, just a short and sweet _hope you're having a good day_ and that's the end of it. Even people that aren't really close wish happy birthdays on Facebook, but is texting too personal? We haven't talked since New Years, but I think today would be okay to shoot a text even if we aren't close. We have each other's numbers – that's what they're supposed to be used for, right?

And besides with Annie and Finnick on the fast track to marital bliss, I suppose we should at least make sure we're on friendly enough terms to not ruin any sort of future celebrations.

I pull up his message thread and look at our three-text exchange.

_Peeta Mellark [Sent Dec 31, 11:20pm]: Made it back. Will you let me know when you get home? _

_I'm home. Thank you for watching out for me [Delivered Jan 1, 12:42am]_

_Peeta Mellark [Sent Jan 1, 12:42am]: Anytime Katniss. Sweet dreams_

Once upon a time there would have been witty innuendos and emojis galore, but that's in the past now. I can't say I don't miss it. During those few months that we were together Peeta became my best friend and closest confidante. While I'm grateful for Madge, Annie, and Johanna, I have always missed Peeta's companionship. I think that was the worst part of our breakup and if I could even get a smidgen of that friendship back, maybe the ache I know I still feel over losing him will dissipate.

Before I can second guess myself, I allow my fingers to fly across the screen and press send.

_Happy birthday, hope you're having a good day [Delivered Mar 14, 11:37am]_

Then I make my screen black, throw it down on my bed, and leave it there while I go downstairs. Madge lies on the couch, her laptop on her stomach as she half watches an old _Friends_ DVD. Annie reads a book in one of the chairs, spending the morning with us before going to a hockey game with Finnick this afternoon.

"Hey, do you want to go downtown with me?" Madge asks, shutting her laptop. "I'm so bored."

"Sure."

We don't make any moves to go though because as bored as Madge claims she is, Saturdays are lazy days. We both stay rooted to the couch until Annie stands to get ready to meet Finnick. It's only then that we make moves as well.

After I finish getting dressed, I grab my phone off my bed to put in my bag. When I hit the home button, it flashes with a new message notification bubble and I freeze for a moment. I had blocked the fact that I messaged Peeta out of my head and now I'm being forced to remember. It's not as if I had forgotten, it was always in the back of my head, but in a way I had almost been successful.

_Peeta Mellark [Sent Mar 14, 12:01pm]: Thanks! It's been good so far. Hope you're well_

Is that a formality or a conversation starter?

"Katniss?"

I exit out of my messages and look up. Madge is in my doorway holding up two different boots.

"Which ones?"

I point left.

Madge disappears and I collapse on my bed.

...

The next couple of months pass quickly and before I know it classes are over, finals have started, and it's my birthday. When I wake up, there is a video message on my phone from Prim. It's a close up of my nephew singing "Happy Birthday" in his two and a half year old way. At the end, he smiles sweetly and blows a kiss when Prim tells him to do so. I watch it a few times before finally rolling out of bed and preparing to head to the library to study for the exam I have in two days. It's my last and I am ready to be done.

It only takes me fifteen minutes to walk to campus and I set up on the fourth floor of the library, near my favorite window that faces the large bell tower. Just as I'm ready to crack open my book and flashcards, my phone vibrates with a new message and I know it must be Madge reminding me that I have to take a study break for dinner tonight with Annie and Finnick. The three of them are taking me out for my birthday and she knows me well enough to know that I'll try to make an excuse to stay at the library. This is her way of telling me that's not an option – messaging me consistently through the day and interrupting me so that when I just get on a roll I'm disturbed.

But it's not Madge.

_Peeta Mellark [Sent May 8, 8:57am]: Happy Birthday, Katniss! Enjoy your day and don't study too hard. _

I wonder how he knows I'm studying but figure that May is that time of year – he's in graduate school and, having graduated from PCU too, he knows the schedule just as well as I do. It doesn't change much.

We haven't talked since I texted him for his birthday. Our message thread in my phone is sporadic at best and at worst looks like a two people who feel it's necessary to speak on a formal basis. But, nonetheless, my breath catches in my throat at the fact that he remembered my birthday after all this time just as I remembered his. Or maybe he's just wishing me a happy birthday because I did first.

Whatever the reason, it's rude not to respond.

_Thanks – and I'll try not to ;) [Delivered May 8, 8:59am]_

My thumb dusts over the blue send button before I can think to erase the winky face and I feel sick to my stomach for a minute, wondering if that was too much, too familiar. We're practically strangers at this point.

He starts typing, the notification bubble alerting me that he at least hasn't deleted my contact information yet.

_Peeta Mellark [Sent May 8, 9:00am]: No you won't but that's what makes you Katniss. Good luck on your exams, birthday girl_

I must stare at my phone for a good ten minutes before I send back a simple _thanks_ and nothing else. I turn the screen black and set my phone down on the desk beside me.

I need to study.

...

The day Annie moves out of our rental house is a hot day in June and not one that I want to spend lugging boxes to Finnick's car and then dragging them into their new apartment. With their joint income they were able to get a small but nice place downtown overlooking the river. From the window and small balcony of their high rise, I can see people running along the river's sidewalks or canoeing and kayaking in the water. It is certainly a step up from Finnick's first apartment and our old rental home in terms of upkeep and just the right size for two people but not much more.

Madge brings up the last box and out of it pulls a bottle of champagne, setting it down on their counter.

"Welcome home," she says.

Annie gives her a hug first and then flings her arms around me. "I'm going to miss you both so much."

I nod, not sure of what to say in a situation like this. I'm happy for her. I have never seen her this excited for something before and Finnick's face betrays his pleasure just as much as hers. But at the same time, I'm selfishly disappointed. Change is not something I'm good with and this is by far one of the biggest changes I've had since moving back here.

Annie's phone rings from the counter and she reaches for it. "It's Johanna," she says before answering. "Hey, Jo!" Then she walks out to the balcony. "Yeah, we just got all the boxes up..."

I look to Madge. Johanna's call couldn't have come at a worst time, just as we were planning on leaving. Now we can't leave until Annie gets off the phone and instead we're stuck among the piles of boxes with Finnick. I'll be honest, I haven't been with Finnick without Annie since college and, while I do have Madge, it still seems tense between us whenever we're together. I suppose the fact that I'm the ex-girlfriend of his best friend but also the best friend of his girlfriend is a weird situation in and of itself. Most of the time, don't the groups separate when things like that happen? I mean, look at what happened after Gale and I broke up. I haven't heard from any of our former friends since.

Madge and I aren't verbose by nature. If Johanna was here and not in New York, she'd be able to light up the room, but as it stands Madge and I are not the two you want to start conversation. But Madge must sense my discomfort, and maybe Finnick's as well, because she hops up on one of the barstools and smiles.

"So do you know who your first visitor is going to be?" she asks.

Finnick grinds his teeth together and glances in my direction for only a brief second before staring at Madge, as if he doesn't want to look at me.

"Yeah," he says. "Peeta's coming up next month."

Like I said, no one really wants Madge or me to start conversation in a silent room. It never goes well.

Madge tries her best to smile, but she turns to me and I can see what she's thinking on her face. She's concerned about what this new information is going to do to me. No matter how many times I tell her that I'm a big girl and Peeta's presence in our lives won't destroy me anymore I have a feeling my episode in the closet is going to follow me forever.

"That's great!" I exclaim, trying to show Madge that she doesn't have to worry about me and instead sounding like a complete moron. I can't even face Finnick, who is probably looking at me like I've got three heads. "Y'all must really miss each other. He mentioned that he wished he could visit more at New Years."

No he didn't, at least not that I remember, but I do recall him mentioning that he missed Finnick and Thresh and the others that stayed local – that was the reason he let Cato drag him here in the first place.

Madge raises her eyebrows at me. Finnick doesn't say a word. Annie walks back in from the balcony and the smile drops on her face the moment she sees us.

"What's going on?" she asks.

"Nothing," Finnick says. Then he walks over to Annie and kisses her temple. "I'm going to go grab that pizza for dinner."

And _that_ must be our cue to leave.

Once the door shuts behind him, Annie crosses her arms. I go to grab my shoes as she starts talking.

"When I left, you were all fine," she says.

Madge shakes her head. "What makes you think we're not fine?"

The words slip out before I can let my roommate handle it. "Peeta's coming in July?"

"Oh, Jesus," I hear Madge mumble behind me.

Annie sighs and shakes her head, going to the cupboards to start putting the glasses that we had unloaded onto the countertops away.

"Why didn't you tell me?"

She sets the wine goblet in her hands back down on the counter and lifts herself so she's sitting beside it, her legs dangling off the floor.

The way Annie looks at me when she talks, a mixture of pity and sorrow and frustration, makes me feel like I'm one of her clients at the shelter – someone that she knows what she wants to say to but can't fully empathize with because we're on two totally different playing fields.

"Because, Katniss, I didn't want to upset you or make you anxious," she says. I open my mouth to argue, but Annie talks over my feeble attempts to cut in. "Besides, Finnick and I decided when we got together that you and Peeta were two totally separate parts of our lives – we weren't going to feed into anything that happened between you two, okay?" I shake my head. "He's not coming for that long anyway. It's not like you'd even notice."

I just stare. I'm not sure I ever thought about how Peeta and I would affect Annie and Finnick's relationship, but I guess I can see it.

"Finnick and the boys are taking him out, going to a baseball game, stuff like that to congratulate him for finishing school. I figured it wasn't worth any agony on your part since the city is big enough that you wouldn't probably run into him."

"Like I did at New Years."

She shakes her head. "That was an accident and you know that."

Madge slides off her stool and wraps an arm around my shoulder. "We'll be fine," she tells Annie. "But right now I'm starving so I think we're going to head out before Finnick comes back with your pizza because I might just start convulsing right here when I smell it."

We don't talk until we're on the subway, heading to Madge's favorite Chinese take-out place that's only a few blocks away from our house.

"I know you hate talking about how you feel, but how are you doing?" she asks.

I think about it for a moment before answering. I'm not concerned by the fact that Peeta is going to be here, in the same city, despite the fact that everyone seems to think I should be ready to crawl into the closet. I wouldn't mind seeing him again actually, tell him congratulations myself for finishing his Master's. I'm more confused by what Annie said – how she and Finnick keep Peeta and me in separate parts of their lives for a reason. Maybe, even though I want to see him, Peeta doesn't want to see me and that's why everyone talks to me like I should be hiding. It's must easier to deal with us when both of us want nothing to do with the other.

"Fine," I tell her.

"Is this a Ben and Jerry's fine or an actual fine?"

"A good fine," I say.

And for the first time in a long time I actually believe it.

...

_Congratulations on finishing your degree. You'll be a great teacher [Delivered Jun 26, 11:16pm]_

_Peeta Mellark [Sent Jun 26, 11:17pm]: Thanks! It seems so surreal still. You'll understand soon enough_

_Do you have a job? [Delivered Jun 26, 11:17pm]_

_Peeta Mellark [Sent Jun 26, 11:18pm]: Yeah, I was offered a job at Cristo Rey Harlem_

_Is that a high school? [Delivered Jun 26, 11:18pm]_

_Peeta Mellark [Sent Jun 26, 11:19pm]: Yeah, Cristo Rey schools are Catholic college-prep schools for kids in urban communities that don't have a lot of education options. I'm teaching tenth and eleventh grade English_

_That sounds cool [Delivered Jun 26, 11:20pm]_

_Peeta Mellark [Sent Jun 26, 11:20pm]: I like to think so_

_I hear that you're coming to visit Finnick in July [Delivered Jun 26, 11:20pm]_

_Peeta Mellark [Sent Jun 26, 11:21pm]: Which little birdy told you that?_

_Will you have any free time while you're here? I was thinking we could catch up [Delivered Jun 26, 11:25pm]_

_If you want [Delivered Jun 26, 11:25pm]_

_Peeta Mellark [Sent Jun 26, 11:27pm]: I'd like that_

...

When Peeta and I were together, there was a little dim sum place in Chinatown that we used to go to in order to get away from campus. This is where we choose to meet up – a place we're both comfortable and remember. When I walk down the street, I see he's already outside of the little café.

"I put our names in about fifteen minutes ago," he says. "Wait was about twenty minutes, so we should be called soon."

Of course he thought to come ahead of time. This place is always crowded on a Sunday morning.

"How'd you get away from Finnick?"

He shrugs, just as a small woman pokes her head out into the street and calls his name. He ushers me to go first and follows behind me. "It wasn't hard. He's still asleep. I told Annie I was going to get coffee."

"This is going to be a long coffee run."

Again he shrugs. "I'll just say I ran into an old friend."

That hits me harder than I care to admit. I know it's just an excuse – from the way he talks, he seems to not want his friends to know that we're talking just as much as I don't. But no matter the reason, the fact that I'm an 'old friend' sends an unwelcomed chill in my body. But maybe that's all I am anymore – time and distance has erased our past and left us strangers to each other.

We're seated at one of the large circular tables, where an older couple is already eating. It's typical to have to share your table with others at this place and I'm not surprised. We quickly mark our order down on the paper and the waiter walks by to grab it. The couple opposite us at the table is working on their food, which looks like an order of dumplings. This is always the part where I falter – are we going to pleasantly ignore each other or converse in shared table conversation? But Peeta has never been shy about opening his mouth in a group of strangers. This much hasn't changed for him over the years.

He quickly introduces himself and then me. The older couple, who are probably about five or ten years older than my parents, easily join in conversation with him. By the time our food is brought out on the cart, the couple has told us that they've been together for forty years, forty-one in November, and say that they come here every Sunday.

I stay quiet listening to them and Peeta easily share stories back and forth. I wonder if the couple is going to ask about us, but they never do. Then I wonder if it's because we don't look like a couple or if it's because they just didn't want to inquire. Maybe they didn't want to jinx a first date or maybe they see us as what we are.

I'm an old friend.

We're still eating when they stand to leave, done with their food. For a couple that has been together so long, and from their stories clearly enamored with each other, they don't appear outwardly lovey. They don't hold hands and the man doesn't help the woman out of her chair. They just seem comfortable together, as if they don't need to be told what to do around each other. Their actions have become habit. It isn't so much romance as it is companionship.

So when Peeta turns to talk to me and we catch up, telling each other about our lives, I realize that maybe I saw in the couple what I missed myself.

"So what are you doing this summer?" he asks, lifting his chopsticks to his mouth. He takes a bite of the steamed pork bun while he waits for me to talk.

"I'm working in Dr. Heavensbee's lab."

"Do you know what you're going to do when you graduate?"

That's the question everyone always asks. Obviously, I don't really know – I could be a wiseass and tell him that I won't know exactly until I send out resumes and get hired – but I know what I want to do. "I want to work in a lab," I tell him. I consider telling him about working in Haymitch's lab and how much I liked what I was doing there, but decide against it. Discussing that would mean discussing North Carolina, which means Gale, and I don't want to bring Gale into my conversations with Peeta.

"Do you like New York?" I ask. He nods, but his mouth is full so he waits until he swallows to answer.

"I do," he says. "A lot of people I went to high school with are there – which is both a good and bad thing." He chuckles and I nod my head. I can't imagine living in the same place as the people I went to high school with – although I actually can because that would mean my hometown, for the most part not many of them have left. "But there's a lot to do and see. It really is the city that never sleeps. It's close to my family and I grew up going into the city a lot. It's comfortable."

I nod. I can understand that.

We split the check after we finish and walk down the street, continuing the conversation from before until we duck into a little pastry café with a bubble tea stand at the far end. I don't even realize Peeta has disappeared from my side – I'm blabbering about the time I visited Johanna and spent the whole trip with a migraine, which I swear was from the congestion of New York, or maybe the abundance of pavement, or both – until I look up from the pastry shelves to see him holding two plastic containers of bubble tea. Mine even has a green straw, although I'm sure that's less of Peeta and more of whatever straw the server chose.

But it's the thought that went into it – and the memories that come with the action – that counts. Whenever we came here, we would always stop at this place and whoever hadn't paid for the dim sum would buy the bubble teas and if it was Peeta's turn he always asked for the green straw in mine.

And I had completely forgotten about this until right now.

For a moment I feel my chest constrict with the memory, but then Peeta smiles and hands me mine – taro, which I had chosen the first time for no more stupid reason than the purple hue of the drink was Prim's favorite color – and it feels like we've gone back in time. Even though when we walk out of the shop there is no hand holding or giggling or fooling around in a street full of strangers, I feel like I'm twenty years old again and hanging out in Chinatown with my best friend.

"What do you say we hit up the park for old times sake?" I ask.

Peeta briefly looks at his watch and then looks up. "Sounds like a plan," he says, but the moment is gone. We're not those crazy kids anymore, no matter what sort of delusion I've just bought into in these last few minutes. But, I'm enjoying spending time with him.

I'll take what I can get.

...

"Where have you been?"

I haven't fully walked into the house yet before Madge is on me, her arms crossed, and her face locked into some sort of questioning stare. I shake my head and shut the door, ignoring her, but she doesn't budge – and then she follows me as I walk into the kitchen to pour myself a glass of water. The subway was unbearably hot – and it seemed to get even warmer in the train car after Peeta got off at Finnick and Annie's stop, leaving me twelve stops by myself.

She doesn't appreciate my lack of response.

"I woke up and you were gone!" she says. "No note. Not answering my texts. God, Katniss, I thought you were kidnapped or something!"

"I think you need to cool it on the crime shows, Madge."

She leans against the counter and crosses her arms. "I was about ready to call the police."

"My phone died." That is true. I hadn't charged it fully last night and used a considerable amount of the battery trying to distract myself on the subway ride into the city to meet Peeta. It died sometime between when I put it in my bag and when I tried to take a picture of Peeta feeding the ducks in the park. "Besides, a person has to be missing for more than a few hours before you can call the police."

"That's not the point," she says. Then she lets out a breath. "Okay, fine, you're safe that's all that matters. But where did you go?"

There are plenty of things that I'm good at – extracting DNA, TAing freshmen in intro bio, taking exams. One of the things I'm bad at is lying.

"I went to a coffee shop," I say, drawing on Peeta's planned excuse. It even sounds stupid in my head, monotone and completely unlike myself. It's like a robot answer. "And I ran into an old friend."

Madge frowns. "Since when do you like coffee?"

"I don't," I say. "I got a green tea. We ran out."

Again, not technically a lie. Madge complained about that last night.

"I would have come with you," she says.

"Next time I'll wait."

I can't believe I made it safely out of the lie.

That night, as I'm lying in bed, I wonder if Peeta got the same treatment from Finnick, or if Madge is just nosy. I fold my hands over my stomach and glance at the dark ceiling above me, illuminated from the city lights streaming in through the window.

Seeing Peeta had been good. While I can still wholeheartedly say that I'm attracted to him, just having that friendship back makes me feel lighter. I am fine with just his companionship. Reaching over to my nightstand, I grab my phone and click through the messages, seeing that Peeta had texted me and told me he was glad we met up. I'm glad too – that's what I texted back.

I don't need Peeta in my life to survive. That's something I was missing before, in those dark closet days when I thought the world was ending. I don't need anyone to be honest – I'm perfectly capable on my own. But having his companionship again will be nice.

...

_Peeta Mellark [Sent Jul 18, 3:00pm]: It was really nice seeing you yesterday_

_Yeah it was fun [Delivered Jul 18, 4:39pm]_

_Peeta Mellark [Sent Jul 18, 5:16pm]: If you're ever in New York let me know. We can meet up_

_Definitely [Delivered Jul 18, 5:17pm]_

_..._

_Peeta Mellark [Sent Jul 20, 8:29pm]: Saw this picture and thought of you._

_That is an ugly cat, but it doesn't have anything on Buttercup [Delivered Jul 20, 8:30pm]_

_Peeta Mellark [Sent Jul 20, 8:30pm]: So I guess you'll never own an orange tabby huh?_

_Uh no. I'll leave that to Prim. Or you, since orange is your favorite color [Delivered Jul 20, 8:31pm]_

_Peeta Mellark [Sent Jul 20, 8:31pm]: Very true. Orange is my favorite color_

_..._

_What are you up to? [Delivered Jul 25, 9:48pm]_

_Peeta Mellark [Sent Jul 24, 9:50pm]: Not much. At a bar watching the Yankees with Cato_

_Boo Yankees [Delivered Jul 25, 9:50pm]_

_Peeta Mellark [Sent Jul 25, 9:50pm]: You don't even like baseball_

_Madge has conditioned me to hate them [Delivered Jul 25, 9:51pm]_

_Peeta Mellark [Sent Jul 25, 9:51pm]: I'm sending you a Yankee jersey for Christmas just to make her mad ;)_

_Don't be surprised if you somehow end up with Red Sox stuff on your doorstep [Delivered Jul 25, 9:51pm]_

_Peeta Mellark [Sent Jul 25, 9:52pm]: From you or her?_

_Wait and see [Delivered Jul 25, 9:52pm]_

_..._

_Peeta Mellark [Sent Jul 28, 7:21pm]: What did you think?_

_Honestly? [Delivered Jul 28, 7:30pm]_

_You were right. The book was better [Delivered Jul 28, 7:30pm]_

_Peeta Mellark [Sent Jul 28, 7:31pm]: See I told you. Never judge a book by its cover_

_Okay Mr. Mellark I'll make sure to make my amends in my book report [Delivered Jul 28, 7:31pm]_

_Peeta Mellark [Sent Jul 28, 7:31pm]: You shouldn't have made the bet in the first place. The movie was awful_

_How was I supposed to know the movie barely followed the real plot? I was thinking that if the plot of the movie was that bad then how could the book be any better? You set me up [Delivered Jul 28, 7:32pm]_

_Peeta Mellark [Sent Jul 28, 7:32pm]: I tried to warn you lol_

_Don't you have quizzes to grade? [Delivered Jul 28, 7:32pm]_

_Peeta Mellark [Sent Jul 28, 7:33pm]: You were my break_

_..._

**One person added you on SnapChat**

Peeta Mellark

_pmellark91_

**Accepted**

...

Madge's parents have a lake house in Maine and in the middle of August we take a few days off and head up for a long weekend. We pick Johanna up at the airport in Portland and then drive the rest of the way north to the house her family has on Sebago Lake. The weather is perfect when we arrive and that night we sit on the porch, sipping wine and talking after dinner.

My phone vibrates against my thigh and I look down. Peeta's face shows up, a screencap of a SnapChat he sent me a few weeks ago that was just too funny not to save, and I slide the bar to answer.

"Hey, what's up?" I ask as I stand, motioning to the girls that I'll be right back. I set the wine glass on the table before I slide into the house.

"Nothing. I just wanted to check in and see if you made it safe."

I wince. I was supposed to text Peeta when we got here. "Shit," I hiss under my breath. "Sorry about that. I totally spaced."

He chuckles on the other end of the line. "It's fine. What are you girls up to?"

"We just finished putting everything away and we're just sitting on the porch with some wine."

I can almost picture him nodding his head, imagining the scene I just laid out for him. "Red or white?"

"Red." I laugh at his gag. Peeta is definitely not a wine person, so I've found out. The taste is too tart and bitter apparently. I always roll my eyes when he texts me what he's drinking at bars – he can still drink the shitty beer from college but he can barely sip on white wine. "What are you up to tonight?"

"Finishing up some of my lesson plans. I'm going over them with the head of the English department on Monday."

My eyes flash toward the screen door I just walked through. Annie, Madge, and Johanna aren't watching, per say, but I know just from the way that Madge is sitting that she's itching to figure out who I'm talking to in private. They know I would have just answered Prim's phone call on the porch.

Usually when Peeta and I talk on the phone I don't have to worry about anyone listening. Madge is the only one who could possibly hear and she's either at work or in another room if we're talking at the house.

"I have to go," I tell him. "I'll text you tonight though."

"Alright, have fun."

We say our goodbyes and I take a deep breath, coming up with some sort of excuse before I walk out onto the porch. It was Dr. Heavensbee calling because he wanted to ask me something. It may sound odd, but it's the best I've got.

I sit back down in my Adirondack chair facing the lake and for a moment think I'm going to get away with it.

Johanna pushes her sunglasses off her eyes and up onto her hair. "Who was that?"

Dr. Heavensbee. He had a question about where I put something.

"No one."

I lack the skill of lying.

"Come on, Brainless," she says. "It had to be a guy."

This causes Madge to turn, her blonde hair whipping around as she does. "Did you meet someone and not tell me?"

Annie stares at me in a chilling way, almost like she can see right through me.

I turn back to Madge, Annie's gaze a little uncomfortable. "No, I didn't. Just drop it."

Johanna grunts, puts her sunglasses back over her eyes, and takes a long sip from her wine. I follow right behind her, nearly chugging the goblet in my hands until it's dry. Then I pour myself another.

After the sun sets and the black flies begin with swarm with a fury, we move inside, a third and then a fourth bottle of wine cracked open between us. At first it doesn't seem to be affecting me too much, but then it all hits at the same time – like I've just been drenched with a bucket of water over my head. My phone vibrates on the table next to me and I reach for it, slipping out of the conversation going on around me.

_Peeta Mellark [Sent Aug 14, 11:23pm]: Chug some water and eat toast_

I frown and scroll up. I didn't even realize I texted him earlier – _I'm drunk._

I nod my head at my phone and stand, walking to the kitchen and pouring myself a glass of water. Just like Peeta said to do, I chug. Then I refill it with the water in the tap and drink again.

My phone is no longer in my hand. I don't know where it went, but I should tell him I did chug the water. Now I just need toast.

"Katniss? You need anything?"

"Toast."

Madge comes into the kitchen and pulls some bread out from nowhere, stuffing it into the toaster. "I need toast too," she says. She turns to me while it's toasting and puts her arms on my shoulders. "I haven't been this drunk in a long time."

I shake my head. Me neither. But, then again, I don't really drink all that much and I've never needed to drink a lot to get drunk.

Then I hear my phone vibrate. I turn and find it on the counter.

_Peeta Mellark [Sent Aug 14, 11:25pm]: Remember to put water next to your bed and Advil for the morning_

_K [Delivered Aug 14, 11:25pm]_

The toast pops up and Madge smears peanut butter all over it before she hands it to me. I take it in my hand and put it up to my mouth. I pull up SnapChat, take a picture of me taking a bite, and put a couple heart emojis on it before sending it to Peeta.

He responds back with funny face that makes me laugh.

"Who are you texting?" Madge asks. She hops on the counter.

I giggle and pull up my text thread. I show her the messages, all in a row of little blue and gray bubbles.

She blinks a few times and then her eyes widen. "No. Way."

I nod.

"What are you fools doing in there?" Johanna shouts. It's loud.

"I'm going to bed!" I announce. I stuff the remainder of my toast in my mouth. I wave to them and walk down the hallway. I shut the door to the room I'm staying in and flop on my bed. I look through my recents and press Peeta's name.

"Well, hello, sunshine," he says. "How you doing?"

"I'm so drunk," I tell him.

He chuckles. "Really? I can't tell."

"Like so drunk, Peeta."

"Really, Katniss?"

I nod, but he can't see me. I flop on my stomach. "I chugged the water. And I had peanut butter toast."

"I know, I saw the Snap," he says. "Do you feel like you're going to be sick?"

The world is spinning, but my stomach feels fine.

"Good. But keep at the water. You don't want to be completely hungover all day tomorrow."

"You always take care of me," I tell him.

He is quiet on the other end for a minute. "Well, I care about you."

"You're my favorite person in the world."

He chuckles again. "That's a little extreme," he says. Then he continues, "Try to get some sleep okay. Text me in the morning?"

"Uh huh."

He ends the call and I drop the phone on the bed beside me.

...

I feel pretty awful in the morning. I wake up my phone and find that it isn't even seven yet, so I walk into the kitchen, grab a glass of water, down some Advil, and go back to bed. I curl up in a ball and try to fall asleep, but my head feels like it's going to explode. That's it. I am not drinking again during this little weekend trip.

But my eyes do eventually close.

When I open them again, it's nearly noon and I feel a lot better. Still not completely normal, but good enough to face the world outside the bedroom.

Madge, Annie, and Johanna don't look much better than I do.

"I think we're getting too old for this," Annie says. Her eyes are still bloodshot. Madge looks green as she nods her head along with her.

Johanna just shakes her head. "You three are just lightweights," she says, but her pallid face begs to differ.

The morning – technically mid-afternoon – ends up not very productive. We throw on a movie and once we're feeling a bit more alive we head down to a diner that serves breakfast all day so Johanna can fix her grease craving. By nighttime, we're all back in working order just in time for round two, which I am glad we all agree does not include wine.

Instead, we just sit on the dock, our feet dangling in the warm lake water.

Behind us, Johanna's phone pings loudly in the otherwise quiet night. She stands to walk toward where we left our things – phones, sunglasses, anything we didn't want to accidentally drop in the dark water – on a flat rock on land. She takes a few minutes over there and the rest of us stay on our backs, looking up at the stars. She comes back, the dock shaking a little under the feet, and stands over me.

My phone lands hard on my stomach.

"Ouch."

"Your phone was buzzing," she says, her voice a flat monotone. Then she taps her foot on the ground beside my head. "Since when are you talking to Peeta Mellark again?"

Madge sits bolt upright, nearly toppling into the lake, while Annie stays on her back. I clasp my hands around my phone and press the home button when it's in front of my face. Sure enough, there's a message on the screen, a delayed response to something I had said earlier.

_Peeta Mellark [Sent Aug 15, 9:12pm]: That wouldn't be so bad_

"Oh my God, that's right," Madge says. "You showed me last night."

"It's nothing," I say.

Even in the darkness where I can barely see her face, I know Johanna has her eyebrow raised and is looking at me like a child caught with her hand in the cookie jar.

"Seriously," I insist. "I just figured that with Annie and Finnick getting really serious, we might as well get civil with each other."

"Civil? Is that what they're calling it nowadays?"

"Johanna!" Madge hisses.

I stand up, slipping my phone in my back pocket. "Look, we're friends. Why is that such a bad thing?"

"Am I the only one that remembers the emotional abuse that tool put you through?" Johanna says.

I stare at her, crossing my arms over my chest. "It's not like I'm jumping into a relationship. It's not that kind of thing anymore."

She snorts. "Really?"

"Really!"

"So, you're not attracted to him? Not at all?" she asks. Then she crosses her own arms. "Jesus, Katniss, was it Peeta that called yesterday and made you all giddy?"

I can't really refute any of that. I do still find Peeta attractive. It was Peeta who called me yesterday when I walked away from them.

This is why I didn't want to tell them. They don't understand.

"You're still not over him," Johanna says, more to herself than to me. Then she raises her voice. "Katniss, you hid in a closet!"

I shout back, "That was years ago!"

"Have you talked about it?"

Annie's voice is quiet. Both Johanna and I turn to look at her. She's still on her back, but now she's looking at us rather than the stars. She folds her hands, stringing her fingers together over her stomach.

"With Peeta, have you talked about it?" she asks again. "What happened after he left?"

I shake my head. "We don't really talk about the past."

"You might want to," she says. She lifts herself up so she's sitting and dips her hand into the water, pulling it back out to flick some drops in the air. "It might help you heal."

"I don't need healing," I tell her. "I'm over it. It happened. It's done."

"Just consider it," she says.

For posterity's sake, I nod.

...

I step off the curb when the walk symbol appears and nearly end up run over by a taxicab rushing through the red light to pick up someone with their hand out like they're attempting to hitchhike. My feet both find the sidewalk again and I feel as though I'm in a cheesy comedy movie.

New York is not my type of place.

Johanna gave me instructions before I walked out of her apartment – which subway to take, where to transfer lines. It's all mushed together in my head now as I fight with what seems like half a million people on a single sidewalk attempting to just get inside the subway stop.

When I get on a train – which may or may not be the right one, I have no idea – I lean back into one of the seats and heave a heavy sigh, loud enough for the woman next to me to forget about ignoring me and glance my direction.

I still can't believe I'm here and what I'm about to do. After Annie suggested talking to Peeta about what happened, I had pretty much decided that it just wasn't going to happen. He lived in New York, while I was four hours away. We never saw each other and while we talked often, there wasn't a big urge for any sort of reconciliation or reformation of our relationship. I'm fine as I am.

But then Madge asked if she could take a look at some of our messages and, although I thought it was an invasion of privacy, I let her. Mostly because while I know a relationship is not what is in the cards for me right now, I wanted an outsider's point of view. The last thing I need is to get my heart broken again by Peeta Mellark. When she saw our back and forth and proclaimed that it was definitely flirty, I changed my tune about talking to Peeta.

And that's what brings me to New York City. I'm visiting Johanna for the Labor Day weekend and was wondering if he wanted to meet up and talk. He said yes.

We agreed to meet at Battery Park and using Johanna's instructions I end up lost once, but arrive eventually. I see Peeta already there, sitting on a bench looking out over what I think is the Hudson River. As I walk up behind him, I can see the Statue of Liberty, Ellis Island, and land that I'm pretty sure is New Jersey on the other side of the river.

I take the empty spot on the bench next to him and he startles momentarily until he realizes it's me.

"You always were light on your feet," he says.

"Some things don't change."

I kind of want to fall into the Hudson right now. I'm not sure where to begin or what to say. How do other people bring this conversation to the surface? I'm pretty sure most couples in our situation would just leave the other one alone and never want to speak to them again. But I do want to talk to Peeta. I enjoy talking to him, being around him, and I missed him in my life when he wasn't there. Johanna says I'm not over him and maybe if we talk about the elephant in the room it will help me move on, but maybe I don't want to move on. Maybe that's my problem.

Peeta sighs and turns to look at me. "So."

"So."

He turns back out toward the river and I grind my teeth together. Peeta is one of the best talkers I know. If he can't start this off, how am I supposed to be able to do it?

"I'm still attracted to you," he says suddenly. I stare at the side of his face because he won't stop looking at Lady Liberty. "I think I always will be. You were the first–"

I frown. "I wasn't your first anything." I was not Peeta's first girlfriend. I wasn't his first kiss or his first time or anything like he was to me.

He shakes his head and finally looks at me. "You should let me finish before you jump to conclusions," he says. He has a wistful kind of smile on his face. "Katniss, you were the first girl I ever fell in love with. You were the first girl I ever said those words to."

"Really?"

He nods his head.

Words have never been my thing, but they're Peeta's. The fact that I am the first girl he ever told he loved is important and something I wish I had known when I was twenty and shooing him away, trying not to tie him down to me. But, then again, I wonder if it would have changed anything if I had known.

And it confuses me at the same time. Peeta had been so adamant that we lose contact while he was away. That seems counterintuitive for someone who was in love. It doesn't make any sense.

"I don't get it."

"What?"

I pick at my nails. "If you were in love with me, why did you push me away?"

"Because, Katniss, it didn't make any sense," he says. "Why would I tie you down to me? You wouldn't see me for two years and we had only been together for a few months."

"I was in love with you too." The words come easy and that alone is a huge shock.

He swallows hard and leans his head back, closing his eyes as he breathes out. "I didn't know," he says. "You never said anything, but I knew you weren't good with words so when I looked at your actions, I..." He sighs again and opens his eyes. "You kept pushing me to take this, even when I said I wanted to stay here. I guess I just figured that I fell quicker than you did and that if you did love me we'd find each other again."

My emotions are all out of whack. I have tears running down my face, but at the same time the fire in the pit of my belly is being stroked by the 'we'll find each other' bullshit that Peeta always believed. I decide to harness the anger, because it's less embarrassing than sobbing in the middle of Battery Park.

"You sure didn't seem that heartbroken on your blog."

Peeta looks more confused than I would have assumed. His eyebrows furrow and he has his head tilted to one side, as if trying to figure something out. Then he says, "I didn't even know you were reading my blog."

My words come out before I can think them through. "Does that make it any better?"

"What do you want me to say? That's what I did – I'm not saying they were the best choices." He runs his hand through his hair. He takes a deep breath. "I felt so alone in Ecuador. I was the only one in my house leaving a serious relationship back home. The four other people I lived with had gone to two colleges, so even though they didn't know each other they had stories and inside jokes that I didn't get, and I didn't have someone to do the same with. I was overwhelmed so I threw myself into my work. And I didn't want everyone back home to realize how unhappy I was."

As Peeta talks, I can't help but imagine him swinging on a hammock or walking down a side street alone and it hurts to think about, so I try to block it out of my head and listen to his words.

"There were moments when I was really depressed and posting upbeat things made everything seem okay. I didn't realize you were reading it." He shakes his head. "How did you even get the link?"

"Finnick forwarded it to me."

He nods his head. "Of course. He probably figured he was helping us stay connected."

Now I feel bad. "I loved having it," I say quickly, trying to bring some light back to his face. "I was obsessed with checking it, but then you started posting so many times with Delly that I–"

"Why did that make you upset?"

I stare at him for a minute, baffled by how confused he seems. Even though it was years ago, I can still remember the blog post he made that sent me flying into the closet, the one where some little kids wanted the two of them to get married.

"You seemed really close," I say. "And not to mention you basically got married."

"What?" he exclaims. But I can see the moment he realizes what I'm talking about. His whole face drops. "Oh shit."

"Oh shit is right."

"We were just friends. Delly has this bubbly personality and I can honestly say I selfishly fed off that. She was always happy and kind so when I felt really down I would just surround myself with her and try to mimic it. Sometimes it worked and sometimes it just made me mad, but there was never anything there." He frowns. "Is that when you all defriended me on Facebook?"

"You didn't even realize we did that?"

"I didn't check my Facebook," he says. "It was too painful. On top of how alone I was feeling sometimes in Ecuador, I'm pretty sure I was going through the grieving process whenever I checked my Facebook page. Imagine all your friends are still basically together, hanging out all the time, and you can't even call them because of the international fees. I didn't check because I didn't want to get jealous of not being there."

I can relate to that actually. I felt the same way when I was in Durham and the girls were together. Whenever I would see Madge, Annie, and Johanna post pictures on Facebook I questioned my own actions.

"And then when I got back, I checked for you. At first, I thought it was just Facebook being dumb and unfriended us, but then I noticed you were in a new relationship and from what I could see of your very private page you seemed really happy. So I backed off." He shrugs. "And besides my first few months back were awful."

"Why?"

"Culture shock," he says. When I don't say anything, he continues. "I had been living on a strict budget in another country and when I got back, it felt so different. It didn't feel like coming home when I pulled up to my parents' house. I know now that reconnecting with you then would have been a mistake. Even some of my closest friends and family had no idea what to do with me and my outbursts. I went on a tirade with my mother for almost an hour when she found an unopened bag of spinach that had been shoved to the back of the fridge and went bad there, and I couldn't control it at all. My views on the world had changed so much in the time I was away it was hard for my own family to understand me. I was like a ticking time bomb for them."

I know enough about the Mellarks to know they are successful business owners. Peeta's father owns a well-known bakery that has a few satellite locations and sells products at local grocery stores. Prim and I once Wikipedia'd the town he grew up in to find out it is basically a wealthy suburb of New York, where the average family income per year is twice what it cost for a year of private college. Knowing Peeta's heart, he had a hard time reconciling with the privilege that he grew up with after his two years abroad.

I wonder if I would have been able to help him when he came back or if Peeta's right with the whole we'd find each other when it was the right time.

"So, what about you?"

My eyes meet his. "What about me?"

"What happened while I was gone?"

I swallow hard, my eyes going to my hands in my lap. Suddenly my past reactions seem very childish. "It's not glamorous like yours."

He shakes his head. "Glamorous? Katniss, I would hardly call my story that."

"You were off doing your heroic save the world thing, sacrificing your happiness and beliefs and everything for some sort of betterment," I mumble. "I was stalking you or hiding in closets."

When he doesn't say anything, I glance up at him, scared at what I'll find on his face. His blue eyes are wide and almost pained. I quickly look away and decide not to tell him about the pregnancy test I took knowing full well I wasn't pregnant but almost wishing I was to keep him stateside. That just makes me seem even more desperate and pathetic than the rest of it does. I suppose I can see why Johanna, Madge, and Annie were so nervous – and so mad at my obsession.

"I ended up in a rut," I continue, the words spilling out of my mouth. "I couldn't do anything but think of you. I missed you and I wanted you to come home, but you always looked so happy that I felt selfish for thinking it. And then you looked so cozy with Delly that I...I got jealous. And when I thought you didn't love me anymore, I snapped."

"Snapped?"

"I hid in a closet until Johanna found me. She deleted your page from my browsing history. She and Madge and Annie helped me block you so I couldn't read it. They helped me remove you from my life and it still didn't really help. And when Gale started to make advances at me, it was encouraged and I thought that's what everyone wanted me to do – get over you and to do that I should date Gale."

Peeta nods his head. "You fell in love with him?"

I shake my head. "I loved Gale, but I was never in love with him. I never felt for him what I felt for you and I know that now." I bite my lip, pulling my teeth across the chapped bottom. "So now what?"

We stare at each other for a long time without answers, until Peeta reaches across and takes one of my hands.

"I think we have some stuff to work through," he says.

I nod my head in agreement and it's only as I'm sitting on the subway, heading back to Johanna's, that I realize despite the fact that we both basically admitted that we're still attracted to the other, neither of us broached the idea of jumping into a relationship. And the fact that we both realized that makes me feel like we're exactly where we need to be.

* * *

**Notes:**

The chapter title comes from "Yesterday Was Hard On All Of Us" – Fink

Thanks to Swishywillow and Mitchesbcray for pre-reading.

I hope this is satisfying considering how long the wait was for this chapter. There is one more chapter after this – I'm not ending it there, I promise. I'm sorry for the wait.


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